A morning near the Caldecotte lake

[Written around 1997, during a trip to UK]

It was a morning, nice and cold;
The wind was blowing off and on.
I could feel icepack around the head;
Hands were feeling numb in the wind

Cars were screeching one by one;
No other humans on the road.
The glasses rolled up in the car;
All were in their own little world.

One had a man with a grave face,
With pounds and dollars in his mind?
Families were there in some of them;
Often a couple with a child or a dog

In one I saw a smiling face,
The guy had a phone in his hand;
Talking to his office down the road,
Or to his date of a movie plan.

The flow of cars never did stop,
They define the roads as it were;
Below lay the lake of caldecotte;
The water was so calm and quiet.

Some were fishing in the lake,
Forming statues on the shore.
Some old people on the walk-way,
Chatting and taking a morning walk.

The wide grass meadows of lovely green;
No eyes can miss this feast, so clean.
The land was full of ups and downs;
Forms a mirror on the ways of life?

Thoughts were flying high in the air,
The effect of wind was null on them;
I could walk along for ever and ever,
But my legs said we had enough.

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