Already In Range Poem by Maria Barbara Korynt

above us clouds are gliding,
as mad somewhere,
they are in a hurry
and the wind is whistling

all over angles
is rushing all over groves,
it is fidgeting
and even for a moment,

it is persisting in the move.
twigs of the morello cherry
are bending
and wind is pulling it for fun.

lowered, I am going ahead,
in order to reach,
a point of departure in a minute.
is on 1000 kilometre, in our range

because we are an adventure facing...