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April 20, 2008


Seagulls are crying, like no one can hear them,
Elephant ears, lobster-tails with butter,
A bear of a dog and the little one near him,
And old photographs, - everything’s cluttered,
The wind from the sea is piercing and brutal,
Bare feet on the pavement, props for a movie,
A warm cup of coffee and a chocolate strudel,
And rocks on the coastline, - everything’s moving,
A woman from Norway whose English is German,
A bummed cigarette and a garden of flowers,
The opera singer, the street that we turned on,
The bench that we sat on - everything’s ours…