to possibly love
too many to possibly live without
manners, although it takes
the joy of the marvel
of each other, every other
you meet, you and me
who is like us
The people next to me
on the train are talking
I hear their stories, luckily
I don't belong to them
I hope
They are so different, or even
worse: I am the same
We leave the marvel
unspoken, unseen
Poem 114 Train Amsterdam-Nijmegen, 2008-07-28 Avalokitesvara (the Lord who looks [at the world],/small>) Collection:Migration Keyword:People: fellow man