I do not do more 
than rummage known landscapes.
in such strange places
that I can not share with you.
 
In any sign I pursue you
I am drawing you in a shadow.
Signs and shadows are lost.
Luck did not come with me...

This life is one of trying to keep the sea on the right when leaving the town.

In view always, the North sea

In front always the low fields, not many trees.

No Horizons.

It's a flat place. But Moors dark, cooler, a uninvited place has been company this short few days

Everywhere.

You miss those conversation.

Miss that long absent look.

Miss the starring into space, sat in complete silence.

But don't know about days.

That don't start

Days of sleeping.

Frustrated days of nothing achieved.

Hard to explain...when days just don't get anything started.

My stars do not respond