Poetry by Vladimir Fischer
Photo by Leonie Zettl
“Some line is crossed…”
Can a flag change its meaning
waving in direction
of the wind that’s blowing
countering the fear
that’s growing?
Can we hide
on the boat
and just hope
to follow tide
and not to disappear
dissolve inside the ocean fear?
Can we humans get another chance
for the bloody millionth time
to make it right,
at least this time?
The clock is dying out,
less room to play
more doom to shake
like tiny dandruff on
the crooked shoulders,
piling up like mindless voters.
Poetry by Vladimir Fischer
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