To you, F.

The moment we were about to head to the centre


you started freeing my coat from grass and other remnants

of nature

still left

from the evening I was lying on the green gazing into the evening sky

while listening to birds

and pursuing planes

with my eyes


is so representative of our personalities

and relationship



Big, noisy place

overwhelming in sounds, sights, smells
To you I turned

to travel a little

closer to myself


You are expected to be bright at night

People are

in front of bars

called pubs

Sipping their pints of ale


But I found

There’s so much left

of old times

19th-century mood

A bit of Sherlock Holmes

on some corners


And those street lamps

leaving the streets



Here I find myself

Travelling back

In a place

where I intended

to travel forth.