A stony path
goes up the hill to the cliffs.
my bicycle leaps like a wild horse -
not much time left
to catch the 12 o´clock ferry to Rossaveel.
the wind sees me to the cliffs.
looking down into the depth
makes me shiver,
watching the breakers
a gate made of rocks
- like huge domino pieces -
reminds me of
not yet being
ready to die;

Angela Kreuz            Print