Herr Schneider.

Herr Schneider.
He is standing at the corner. Everyone is greeting him, hesitating for a second, maybe, being surprised to see him here. Passing by, a man in a walnut-coloured parker says to him: “We have always called you “Herr Schneider”!”
He is standing there, only a few steps away from me. His hands are sunk deep down into the pockets of his long black cloak which is almost touching the ground.
The small man with his short and rather thin, grey-black hair and those vivid brown eyes is standing next to the entrance, greeting the customers with a short nod and a big smile when they enter the store to his right. Suddenly, I feel my corners of the mouth raising as well.
If he was standing on the other side of the street, on his corner in front of a shopping window which is not decorated with an old sewing machine any longer, traces of time could be hidden for a while.
A familiar face put in another context changes both the previous and the current.

..in full flower

Blossoms on the roof top

sleep in light, awake at night

you take a drink and I take another

the last drop, and then I see

those flowers on the balcony.

Time Tree