Waiting the wind

The time as such will never be the same,

The space between will never come back..

She sits watching the snow.. as if waiting to melt..

Her eyes lost in the branches and shaking leaves..

She is mute..

The strange faces around her make her lose track of time.. for she had no time to recognize or know them. So they remain foreign to her…

And therefore she forgets she is waiting..  and slowly balances and starts to cry..

Only the wind in the leaves remind her “to wait”, the repetitive action / movement brings her back in time.. therefore as far as the wind comes, she feels alive,

waiting, she feels time..


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