Joy

The dark trees move gently In the cold breeze They seem to wave goodbye To the setting sun I tighten my coat and walk With my back to the wind Along the extended misty meadows Towards the canal The pale light of afterglow fails I turn around: Orange and dark blue Beyond the trees Birds like small grey spots On the dark-blue sky Fly accross the quiet picture Towards the south Only the cold assures me It's not a dream It seems time doesn't pass at all Don't expect anything to happen

Copyright Jaap-Henk Hoepman Index of l'Église Métropolitaine d'Art de Jésus Conducteur Mail: (jhh@xs4all.nl) WWW: http://www.xs4all.nl/~jhh.

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