You have to understand my friend
This is all from a dream
We bought a cottage north
Patchy purple with a poach
Neighbors came, took photos
Then copied, charcoal on paper
Wrote headings in two languages
Sorry that I only knew one
The images they drew moved
They danced and ran through the woods
Returned, out of breath, and
Took their place on the walls
One or two had been institutionalized
The rest pointed them out with pride
Then wrote in their native tongue
Interpreted just below in ours
Their clothes like cloaks blew in the wind
Babies, two or three, they held and swirled
The children squealed in delight
The charcoal nary moved in the dance
But in place they stayed transfixed
The collection of hand drawn animals
We hung around the dinning table
The sky above reflected the house
Sadly they announced their move south
They would return now and then if
Only some of our photos we would send
Stanski
December 29, 2023, ^
Steve Haarman 