Farmer

Farmer

Farmer (poem, ash on dead tree)

Tea, or coffee, with which should the day be started? Which one contains more caffeine?! I saw two small boys in my dream, one older than the other one. I waved to the tractors passing by the house. Hello farmer! I took a walk, a bit to the right, a bit to the left. Didn’t find anything, wasn’t after anything either. I was, I wasn’t aware of my dreams. I collected woods for the fire. Entered home with the right foot, someone once said it’d bring good luck. I hear different sounds from the walls and the ceiling. Each time, some different sounds. Nobody lives here but me. Home speaks to you, only, in a different language. After a few phone calls, I realized I’m forgetting my mother tongue. The life bitter than the poison will too pass, once again, life would be sugar. Sugar is dangerous for health.

Žeimiai, Lithuania, summer 2019
many thanks to Roberto Cimetta Fund & Žeimių dvaro sodyba

Date

February 4, 2016

Category

Art, Writing