Blowing down powdersnow from a pine branch
onto cold, light grey shadows; in the wilderness
(The verge of the ground a reminder of Our gathering.)
Gently gave Water and Wind Life to the cloud
meanwhile snow journeyed in a concern to remain
upon forest hills stones; to be glanced towards the edge
(Finding Now in the stillness,
in a fleeing movement:
All gone and awaiting time.)
Somewhat hesitant break runnels through the ice,
somewhat insolent, asking: When do We reach Home?
This so grievously lovable clarity’s Winterglade
is surely leaving its Answers in the abstruse
alike streamcaressed stones over the creeks have stayed
in the frozen years
Demand our new freedom, as all other time is stricken.
Remembering aged forestshine
Wet leaves caressing the ground
Walking paths, learning the craft of wordless validity,
through the moon’s vividly painted forest-shadows
over this sweet silence and wilted leaf soil
Remaining. Now in a dawn without words.
Standing beside the edge of the woods as a secret,
as tired, failed and forgotten glimmered lumber
where sorrows always are in a temporary frozen
Remaining anyway. Stuck.
I am forlorn-embraced,
all too roughly ripped from this tearing uncertainty
unbeknownst my frail wild-strawberry time returned
and placed itself furthest away from un-necessity
Lingered on here under these lovingly sailing clouds
while these charming wild-strawberry in the green
stood helplessly faired in appeal after forgetfulness
Cure: Life and Death.
Tredje och sista fotoutställningen blev i Malmö. Platsen är Folkets park, på framsidans ena hörn under ett dygn. Typ den omgivande muren.
Made another cover for Free Lit Magazine. (I am collecting on these now…)