What would Scardanelli do on a day like this

He’d appreciate the sun for the sun
And the cold for the cold,
Putting on a cardigan without fuss

He’d get into his jalopy
(As windy as a flying carpet)
And surf the streets

Around Tübingen,
Creeping up on the Jura
In first gear,

Getting out on a chalk plateau
And walk, walk, walk,
One with the ghosts

From time immemorial
When the plain
Was the bottom of a sea

– Niebla (copyright 2007)

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About niebla

I wish to remain clear of details. My words shall lift the veil.
This entry was posted in History, Imagination, Life, Literature, Nature, Poetry, Scardanelli. Bookmark the permalink.

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