No Snow in Berlin

a winter poem

No Snow in Berlin


No snow in Berlin,

only three hours on the train 
here, whiteness is a border.

You said, back there, the clouds are happy 
streamers, blossom and so very light.

This is where I forget to breathe
here, under the grey weight

and simply watch the snow falling. 
A fairytale brushing past me 
like a stray cat.


(first published in Dreich)

(these photos were taken before I wrote the poem above. This is just outside my old house in Nahrendorf)

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