Nomadic

The Room is Evaporating

I often lose direction in the same place;
eventually, I try to recognise buildings, plants, trash cans and posters around me.

They look different during the day and the night.
Not far from the house,
a wisp of white smoke ascended from a chimney.

Until much later, after moving to another country,
I again met the same thread of white smoke.
Maybe I didn’t walk so far.
In the Middle of Nowhere

In a night lost between mountains,
I received instructions to reach the destination by crossing a river with three stones.

I arrived at the river following the sounds of the water. The stones were not there.
Maybe it is the way into the white forest.
It has been long since I left home.
A wanderer far from familiar places,
I was in cities, in forests, under the sky, among the rivers...

and slowly, I stood in the middle of nowhere...
About Ears, About Birds

When ears become butterflies, they fly.
They lift a person up.

In Catalonia, people say:
Papallonna