It is clouded this morning. The wind does not blow. It is cool morning.
We gradually get old. While I do not know it.
And we notice it overnight.
Wrinkles of the face. White hair. Shortness of breath. Forgetfulness. Farsightedness. etc.
huh ...
We are over only a sigh.
We are composed by materials of the space. And we return to an original figure again sometime.
The lives walk steadily until a day of the end.
Without dropping in.
I will watch even the photographs which I took in old days today.
Nekogahora rues de Nagoya et Yokohama Atsugi promenade
