There were children

who on short ski’s

while bent forward

carefully

slid down

a slope.

There was an orange sun

which

stood low above many

fir trees. 

There was snow

which melted

and flowed away

across a gravel path

in search of

a sea. 

There was a small brown bird

which pecked at crumbs

from a small plate. 

There were thoughts

of fathers, mothers

and friends

who are not there anymore. 

There were images

which resembled then.

There were two people

who sat

on a bench

hiding from the wind.

There were hands

looking for each other. 

There was time

and

warm drinking chocolate. 

Herman van Veen.