Mostly it is runways of possibilities. But also it is refuge. Erected containers. Hobbled together by mean knuckles and oppressive fingers and sometimes where the blood has dried there is something man made, an awkward sterile white that is a bathroom but can also be home of which we are not the deciders. I know that in crowded homes sometimes refuge is the bathroom stall. It also has…
Berlin life and travel• Poetry and other stories
Tempelhofer Feld in Summer (nature writing)
January 17, 2021
