landscape brooding
In the distant dark,
Trees heavy laden with snow,
Tall foreboding and still, there is no wind
They appear as if waiting.
Near by a hut at the edge of forest,
A man lightly dressed walks along--
Steadily holding an umbrella high above his head
Moves towards a snow-covered dwelling.
All is silent ... hauntingly!
Nothing, nothing echoes in the solitude
Except the sound of wet snow,
Aching under his quick-moving feet.
He--a wanderer humming
A light tune in the night.
Eva-Maria Hogrefe 2017
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