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Updated: Aug 31, 2019

From Colmar to Wettolsheim

I walk along route 30.

Turning off road

at first I see one giant cat.

Then 2 then 3

in line and scrambled

leaping over mountains

power lines shaped like cats.

Watching over this sleepy town

towering above the town church

their whiskers pulled one by one into each house

houses disguised as mountain slopes.


each house has a vineyard for a lawn

and fraser fir instead of palm,

you could come back any day

and it'd be Christmas everyday.

A merry ho-ho and a g'day to the winemaker

Bastien shamefully apologies

'not ready yet for a fine drop of nouveau'.

Not a square in sight

not a soul sharp as a razor

this, a walkers delightful sight.

Exhausted in the square I sit

distant church bells heard afar

dizzied by the Alsatian charm.

A dozen more ticks of the long hand

bus starting now with a dodgy clutch

I have some time to kill before first gear,

light a cigarette and drink a Fischer

to quench my needing spring thirst.

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