a slow farewell

(tentative translation of  "un adieu lent")

I watch.

People walking around, doing their shopping.

laughing, eating

ice cream and again laughing,

strangers to all personal drama.

It's like watching a film in EASTMAN COLOR

when you find yourself in a B&W movie.

Nowadays

We abuse colors,

yellow vests, red scarves, blue bonnets.

It's an insult to the master's palette.

Even more,

the yellow is dirty, the red bland and the blue is dull.

Only white and black fits well...

Meanwhile gray shades are watching us.

And for the little story,

My own one,

the one that confirms that our existence is just passing by,

tomorrow it will be

forgotten; tomorrow

I will be forgotten

despite these words.

I only have one colorless world left.

Doubt reigns over efficiency

of won battles

in the past and

lost again nowadays.

The re-conquest is in the opposite camp

I'm too short of breath to leave the trenches.