yesterday I found a sad-funny poem of mine that also fits with our blog theme. It is several years old, unfortunately undated.
driving
we move on we leave
a hair of a small half-moon fingernail
always take a piece of us
we and our
lose to places people do not dream the
are portable so we are scattered
like salt on a hard boiled egg
Why just like salt on a hard boiled egg? Was that just a small joke or was I thinking something? And the egg is peeled at all yet? This question has me seriously, but I do think! Who sprinkled salt on an unpeeled egg? Perhaps because of the picture because grains of salt to take peeled eggs always such a strange glassy appearance, so that each individual is emphasized? Maybe it was an associative connection the lexical level of "scattered" to "Salt Shaker" ...
I would just think that's why it comes to grains of salt and hard-boiled eggs in our absent-mindedness to different places and people but in the end gives the whole thing and sweet! For demonstration purposes
I do I, translated into English, how do you find the version?
Going (Travelling?)
we go further we leave behind
a hair a little half-not-moon fingernail
always a bit of us
we go and loose ourselves
to places persons dreams Which are
portable so we are soon scattered
like salt on a hard-boiled egg
Bis,
your Sibylla
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