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Land-Art in the polder


The water disappeared
the flat country
intersected with
roads and canals
more and more
the horizontal becomes
game of lines broken
by farms
homes windmills
masts and nature
memories of
sea and sky
blur blend
in the old soil
after more than 35 years
the trees
on the other hand
reach out
to the sky
a cathedral
whispers rustles
beckons to eternity
poplars grow fast
however the end is approaching
the question arises
what to do
how feasible is
nature the polderland
art for ever or
ashes to ashes
dust to dust?


The panoramic polder
caught in ditches
dykes tree and leaf
earth water
air no fire
beavers though
however they bite each other
tree and beaver
man-sized gauze should
offer a solution
what is nature
worth in this country
the poet sighs
then and now
linear low-
lands pleasant
nice but sometimes
I desire
a non planned
dyke breakthrough.


The look on infinity
or focused
on a stepping stone
where the voice
is given space
what do I see hear
no train road traffic
that has gone underground
this there was
earlier Stonehenge
in the polder
4 metres below NAP
country water air
separate but
sometimes the line is
barely visible
sea becomes land
blends into air
falls down again
a cycle of
coming and going
move between
heaven and earth
life and death
dream and reality
looking for
where ever it started



Submitted for the Turing poetry contest 2015.