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It made the candle lit room silent
His breath was heavy and deep
Mustered up from the depths of his soul
He was growing old

Something or someone seemed to be nagging at him
Something he couldn’t yet touch
Something old was about to leave
What, that remains to be seen

It seemed to follow his every breath
Thought, movement
His aching heart was followed by his aching body
The only thing he wanted to do was to remain in his study

Even looking out the window at the playful leaves
He felt distant
The whole action itself, gruesomely tiresome

Suddenly the leaves stopped
Only a flicker remained
He had stayed with himself through the storm
Now the insides of him felt strong

Ian Altosaar

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