On this Monday –
Indeed the air
The upcoming light wintry
Colours
The land around Weidling
Dunked into blue hues.
Hardly anyone on the go
With exception of early
Commuting folk
And for the poet’s walk
Along the Weidlingbach
Cleared from soil and
Imported clay deposits.
This Monday I’m in good time
To be first at the door of the
Local Doc’s rooms
To have my blocked ear
Cleaned out.
It’s now high time.
However I could rightly claim
To be hard of hearing
Especially if I refused to listen
To negativity and sole accusations
Originating from a pal’s disadvantages
Or a spouse’s dissatisfaction
To get her own way.
Life’s an illusion
We are all dying
We are all dead.
zoltanzelan
ZJG-POetry’18.