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  • Writer's picturePetra Zlatevska

Postcards from Berlin

I would not consider myself a poet by any stretch of the imagination.

Although I am very taken with rhymes.

While scrolling through my trove of recent iPhone-tastic photos and, inspired by the late November cobalt blue – sky and the heady aromas of nutmeg scented Glühwein and woody chestnuts, these little ditties just came to me.

Christmas is in the air,

Drink Glühwein like you just don’t care.

When Lebkuchen, Zimtsterne and Kipferl become your Yuletide staple,

In three months time you will be as large as your dining room table.

They are the last, lingering traces of Autumn,

Almost dead, their fiery reds, zesty oranges and golden yellows are no longer.

And in their place are spirals of greysmoke

Billowing gently from the chimneys inside.

Chesnuts are roasting,

Everyone is toasting,

No one can stop boasting

That we all live in Berlin.



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