bottle in the sea

three rocks, a few burnt pines

a small chapel

and higher up

the same landscpae copies and repeats itself

three rocks shaped like a gateway, brown and rusted

a few burnt pines, black and yellow

and a small square shack buried in whitewash

and still higher up, again and again

the same landscape stacks itself

all the way to the horizon to meet the twilight sky

here we moored the ship to mend the broken oars

to drink water and to get some sleep

the sea that embittered us is deep and unexplored

the calm it brings is endless

among the pebbles we found a coin

and threw the dice for it

the yougest among us won and left

we set out once again with broken oars