firewood stacked along the wall
shovels besides the entrance
these folks are set up for winter

Asuguo

heavy clouds and fog
hanging over the treetops
never saw these woods so dark

Asuguo

when everything is the same
color of grey, it's hard to
tell the road from the ditch

Asuguo

they look like us
you can't distinguish them
unless they talk

Asuguo

in the morning you
awake from a bad dream
and another begins

Asuguo

the south of vienna
remains a mystery
to me

Asuguo

catching a brilliant idea
losing it again.
never mind

Asuguo

so little achieved
so much postponed;
lazy life on sunday

Asuguo

whirled skywards
invited to a graceful dance
just to be dropped, seconds later

Asuguo

good ventilation in shoes
can be a curse when
biking downhill in winter

Asuguo