Poetry

I said perhaps somewhere in the Western Cape
meant a province with a big peninsula,
a place where we did once meet,
which is bounded by both the Indian
and the Atlantic oceans
 
where sunny summer days stretch much longer,
up to eight o’clock, where people really have a life,
where the blue sea reaches far over the horizon,
where the sea, sun and the blue sky
have got a own kind of sheer magic
 
but on that white beach the sea rushed in,
my words were blown by the wind
and they were totally out of reach
as away you just walked on
and everything between us was lost and gone.