[When I walk to the sea] Poem by Erik Lindner

When I walk to the sea
I can go two ways

- two ends of a line
she follows the words past her index finger

two fingers and a thumb rub
when I walk to the sea

the pile in the palm of the hand
fingertips removing grains
salting the meat just starting to burn

I must keep it in hand
if it comes from a jar
I can't feel it

she points the way she's reading
pricks the meat

when I walk to the sea
I can go two ways
my fingers rub

I sift the sea.

Translated by Paul Vincent