As Malmö stretches out in front of me
and variform birds shriek undoubtedly
the waves break upon the sandbank
on the edge of nature’s giant fish tank.
As the wind whispers into my left ear
I look upon the empty wooden pier
now the wind shrieks and shouts
leaving no place for my echoing doubts.
As the agèd gentleman’s bicycle creaks by
and the elderly couples stroll by and sigh
the jugged, sharp edges of granite
are woven into nature’s fabric knit.
As the wind whispers (or does it shout?)
and the salty air circles roundabout
in an endless fight with the seagulls
looking down upon us fools.