A square of silence,
a few lost lines,
and the wind having fun
to blur the paper's memory.
Shards of shadow glide across the light,
like distracted birds.
The sky spills its inkwell
on the sleeping sea.
And somewhere -
at the turn of a spot,
a stroke,
a breath -
you think you hear a laugh,
the laughter of a brush
playing chess
with chance
Germany
Netherlands
Netherlands
Germany
Netherlands
Germany
Germany
Germany
Germany
Netherlands
Germany
Germany