He came closer.
He looked into the blue surface of the lake —
And he saw life.
No, not flora, not fauna.
He saw his Life:
past, present, future —
imposed on itself,
and yet separate,
blurry,
And crystal.
He saw a boy
Playing with a stick.
Carefree,
Happy —
The head was free
From the dust of the universe.
He besides saw himself:
above water,
anxious, tired,
without strength,
without hope,
alone
among thousands of trees.
He saw an old man
In the snow-white room.
Grey hair
They were falling on a wrinkled forehead.
He was sitting,
thoughtful,
In a rocking chair.
Sam.
Still alone...
The illness digests the body —
loneliness.
