feather of thought

first of March. new moon. new snow, like a carpet it covers the first tiny blossoms; white, the snowbulbs. yellow, the winterlings, the ones who tell with their name already that first of March, in their flowering opinion, is still counting as winter, not as spring.

later in the day, the snow will be melting again, the weathermen said. still the frozen flakes keep falling, keep falling to fade, careless like clouds, careful like feathered creations of the atmosphere

she stands there, at the window, forgetting time while she looks out, to the trees, to the forest beyond. then she remembers. coffee. tea. time to put the cups on the tray. time to begin the day again, together, two hours after she began it alone. yet she doesn't move. the word alone keeps her there, for a moment, for a reflection, for another flake falling. alone. all one. the roots of words, so often covered by the literations, hidden in a forest of language grown so huge.

for breakfast, the topic moves from carnival to politics in the quarter of a croissant, then on to money and Maslow. on which step of the pyramid does it fit in? to which degree is it part of all levels? money, the silent measure of worth, answering in numbers, not in words. this feeling again, that something got lost during all those years of developing trade, developing words. something invisible, yet basical. or maybe it's there, but the words for it are not invented yet.

what happens to a concept that has no name?

later, sun again, breaking through the white, blurring the difference between sky, air and ground, melting them into one entity. on the grass, a bird without name, looking up, then looking right at her. to fly, she answers the question that is lingering since days in her thoughts. and while she waits for it to take wing, she makes a mental note to pick up that book at her parents, this book she once was given, then had left at that shelf, this book about birds.


words: Dorothee Lang, Germany (blueprint21)
photo: Michael Bergstein, New York (Conjunctions)

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