Tracks in Sand, 1992


So much
and so little
can happen when
surfaces in contact
get transformed

A scarlet dot approaches
in the pastel blue distance
and I stand there myself
as another tiny dot
bronze green with expectation

When we cannot handle
the extreme joy of meeting again
we only sense a bone white unity
of excitement

But when
a few weekdays
and weeknights
enter the reunion
we consist of
each our hard material
in the harmony of agreement

There are moments
when man supports
a woman’s torso
There are times
when man gets his balance
by carrying woman on his head
while making big eyes at The World