Winter Mood

Poetry and Art

Through sheer layers of mist
the fading sound from a distant train,
down the street houses look like ghosts
with their dark hollow eyes, reflecting
no more than the coldness outside,
footsteps bounce back from silence
in this vacuum coloured by grays,
where the living are not to be found,
yet one soul still wanders around.

An old poem from my book The Song of the River

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