(for Miroslav Dusanic)
the progress of time,
on the rise,
loud sometimes, other times quiet
fool me -
they bring me a mirror, shattered shards
bright-dark, wild pulses through,
changing quickly - stark picture of the lived
I put my shirt on the body
and feel her cold skin of ice on my
then I open the window ...
and the blue of the sky I'm
a being of light ...
© by Gabriele Brunsch