Between railroad and highway,
an old house
covered with vines.

An old friend calling:
a familiar voice on the phone,
memories of a familiar face.

Pieces of old hardware
all incompatible
in subtle ways.

Clouds and sun,
silver and bronze,
reflected in water.

distracted
lost in thoughts
missing the moment

The room is full
with junk.
I'm drowning.

Darkness everywhere,
the night threatening.
All in my head.

Rain and wind,
memories of summer
washed away.

Ich liege in der Wiese,
doch das ist verboten:
``Weg, weg, geschwind!''

I've done nothing wrong.
It's all your fault.
And yours, and yours, and yours.