pennies we hidden in love
sweet smelling days
threatened by memories of following time
skipping on life for hours and hours
banning the terrifying fear hanging in the air
playing Jacks in the gap
between the livingroom carpets
just on the day when death came by
over and over again in the hope to turn time back
lost the small pathes of my childhood
the sound of my language – homeland for me
stone beaches and cries of seagulls recalling the past
from a uncanny dark spot
Buckles of shells in salty green water
spilling over my sticking out knees
Treasure chest full of hope and desire.
Holding hands on a long sideway walk
Being on the outlook for the chalkstone man
Drinking bottled milk in the schoolyard
the tin top with the delight of a creamy film
Leaving a gap underneath my small feet