“good morn‘ neighbour“
”hi/good morning poet“
“what’s the matter with your
leg?” the poet said
“still hurting from your last
“yes”/the neighbour said/ but
now I feel the weather changes.”
the poet placed his hands together
“i can feel it in my operated hands.”
“well then we both suffer”/joe the
neighbour uttered with a drawn
“i feel my age with all its added
benefits”/the poet retorted.
joe the neighbour laughed
he knew the poet’s ironic attitude
“let’s talk about life/ joe said/ one
day i’ll tell you about my wanderings
from afghanistan to turkey/greece/
romania to hungary and austria.
“indeed/you’ve experienced a lot
already in your youth/ write it!
“i can tell it to you and you write it”
“well/i prefer you’ll write it/i will help
you with editing “
“and you?” joe said.
“mhh/i’m here now having travelled
the world/ mainly north-south until
i reached the cape of good hope
however/ as my wife and i are die-hard
individuals – fighting each other all
our lives with lots of hurting words…”
“well”/ joe interrupted – “hurting is all
i know about until i arrived here / and
“ok/that’s good to hear/ but now in our
advanced ages we don’t hurt each other
now all scars on our bodies hurt
but our souls are still drifting on a sea of
“bye for now”/joe said.