Zywa Waiting in the wind

My neighbour is a thinker
a statue behind the house
in the summer and the winter

garden concealed in the spruce
His legs graft him:
bare, upright branches

invisibly sustained
by roots in the ground

At times a wind that doesn't want to wait
is stroking through his feathers
but hé is not rushed

when I throw fish
Thoughtful he knows
opportunities are taken or missed

and he knows the difference
the right moment
or not

Poem 1109
Amsterdam, 2017-03-03

After a photo by Jan Keijzer
Collection: WoofWoof 
Keyword: Waiting 
Dedicated to: Jan K 
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