In all these moments. Time stopped. Couldn’t understand. The clock not moving. All aswirl. now we leave. We take ourselves out. Outside. And into the maelstrom. Holding hands together. Making sure we don’t loose each other and all the time we look and analyse. But how will we know. Indeed. How will we know. And can you even see it. Look my friend look. And in the midst of it you must stop. Stop I say. Stop. These moments. Between the movements of the hands. Stopped as they are. These moments are for hiding in. For living in. For making a home. Not a house. A home. A foundation. A foundation for the towers. Those glittering towers never achieved



(after the Hafler Trio)

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