When I finally made it to the tree, I noticed a cross wrapped in leather, two planks really, and an epitaph from 2004, the tree was a tomb as well. The crows left in a croak. I wanted to leave a cigarette on the ground but only found some gizeh paper, so I rolled one out of thin air, and muttered Eluard’s very own :
“Le vent, lentement, roule, une cigarette d’air.”
Having paid my respects, I climbed as high as I could to see if I could spot my friends, lost in the toundra, and I saw two figures moving through the utopian garden.
Berlin beckons, it was time to go back.
An Ode to a Shoe.
The Permanence of Impermanence
Friendship is not developed though time, rather moments of time.
Only Bumping Boats
German lessons at the Jewish Museum
6/7. The City of the Kaiser Chiefs. The architecture and history is often overshadowed by the Nazis and the East/West Cold war era...
A Candle for Your Thoughts