When ice was kissing the wind
And the sun splintered in an orange hue
The old man welcomed the light
With his burning cigarette
He wished to sell some brooms
Stacked neatly
piled in rows of two
His eyes were murmuring
Why isn't there anybody today
Weather seemed ok
And Life was active
Don't they need my brooms
To dust away their sorrow
sweep away the past residues
But no one cared
May be no one took notice
He sat there ever gazing
.......
His hopes as the puffs
Chaotic and dark
©zennezzen
Z