On this small island,
a barbet flutters.
A supple warmth,
I can still depend on.
And night and death,
call more for wonder.
As though they are nothing,
next to this passion –
beyond desire.
Winter is far off
A Wandering Poet
As I walk around I like to record what I experience. Through poetry, ideas and thoughts I hope I can share some of these experiences with you.
A Wandering Poet 