Tiny birds pushed into the wind
falling back with heavy drafts
feathers dishevelled in the tardy ride
colours bare, colours simple
fading as the sun and the landscape
burn into the distance of clouds
at ten degrees of a slope
one meter away
there stands on barren rocks
the island
a place for those who
travel on light wings
with waves splashing bellow
sun rays meeting and sparkling
blinded by flight I am fleeing.