UPRIGHT

»Is this nature? « one asks and seeks the answer in the silent chorus of the upright.

Upright_Rokk_Eckart-Bartnik_01.jpg

UPRIGHT

»Is this nature? « one asks and seeks the answer in the silent chorus of the upright.

 

No

glistening

blanket

of snow,

no lovely winter forest.


The snow is more like a shroud.


The still standing trees rise forlornly into the sky, as if their salvation comes from there.

Black trunks dissect the images with merciless incision. 

A forest that has never been a real forest, but only lumber.


Which trees survive in place?

Which are doomed to be felled?