Alle my leaves are gone
said the tree
I have ride myself of limbs
I have thrown away
yhe worn out words
I have filled up the cracks
torn by existence
I pull back
to the silence of waiting
the winter turning point
in which I again find hope
and the power of promise
to stand again
replenished
then it will be spring
Oeke Kruythof
Jenny Narraway translation/transcreation