Cold steps on thick ice,
I hoped I didn’t catch a cold,
Where water was hard as coal,
And the breeze was icy cool.
In plain sunset I walked,
The narrow path in life,
The warmth avoiding,
Every visible spot alive.
Yesterday I returned to the place,
The ice has begun to melt,
At a distance a penguin waved,
Sorry to say I never saw it return.
Poesi av Erick Flores och foto av Mikael Svensson.