in a swirl of colour, a blur of movement
she comes and goes, the lights of the city behind, spare a thought, what is that light?
grab a blanket, push the curtain aside, enter into the darkness of a cave of light and color, lay anywhere, listen, see, think, sleep.
Dust the paraffin off your clothes if you forgot laying on the blanket
The frozen dew in the late autumn covers the fields and trees around the Kochelsee and melts as the sunbeams light the morning. The last of it sticking tenacious to the cold bronze sculptures in the garden of the Franz Marc Museum. All is quiet before the first guests arrive.