to mix
black and white
turns to grey
background noise
in which we cannot
find a rhythm
im-pressions leave
dents, we are licking
wounds, too occupied
sometimes when we stay
and watch the surf or how
snow falls on the cherries
we forget to breathe,
to listen,
until the clouds tear:
we walk
out of con-fusion,
autumn leaves blown
sky high
into the trail of birds,
we feel again
our feet touching the earth
where we live
in the grace of our season
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