He takes off his socks

Throws them into the basin on the floor, turns around

And leaves

Outside, heavy snow

Facing the cold wind, he walks alone

Walking non-stop

He thinks of the peace of the past

And the familiar unfamiliar faces outside the window

And the sound of a door closing in the corridor at this moment

Across the road

Quite far away

Maybe separated from him by a river

It is said that on the other side of the river, in May

People have seen trees there

Covered with white flowers, like roses

To observe the posture of a tree in different periods of time

Requires persistence

Or still have

Many such trees around

Or none –

Not a single one.