An unusual poem written by no other than me.
It is cold
by the lake.
Count the souls
lost in the lake.
Image via Wikipedia
I pike the path
in spelunker shoes.
My frozen lips
are drying up.
Image via Wikipedia
It is going to be
a nice weekend.
Twenty kilometers to
go and I’ll find
the marked path
through this hellish
air of Swiss alps.
Image via Wikipedia
Yesteryear it was
hot and cool
in France; here,
it is as cold
as sweet Swiss
cheese awaiting
just for me
in my old village
just for me…
Image via Wikipedia
It is cold
desperate dried air
hot melting water
snow above trees
carry on skis
I just know
how to carry on.
Image via Wikipedia
Tomorrow, I shall
see glittering light
of old country
that never was
or never will
be buried in shadows.
Towns of hall lights.
Image via Wikipedia
Jiri H. Stefanovich © Copyright 2010 All Rights Reserved.
℠ Bad Robot
Not much for poetry but the images are amazing 
Nice Share.
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