Ice And Fire
In the night the world is crystallised.
In the distance is traffic noise: here only one human, a cat, a few chickens, a
dog stirs. Sun edges a dark cloud much as flame edges a fry pan.
In the field Dog wakes the wild birds, springs two roe deer. She catches
nothing, cares not, exhales happy steam.
In pale cloud scatters the moon is camouflaged. From the horizon a puzzling dot
grows into a hot air balloon.
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