Deceitful Joy

I look at the unplaughed fields
Covered with thick fog
High grass, wet because of the den
Separating the earth from the cloudy sky

Omnipresent greyness
Filling every place
Rogged and stopping tress
Reaching arms to each other
Strong and icy wind
Swinging the life

I can see
Swinging child
I can hear
Muffled laughter
I can feel
Deceitful Joy
Don’t turn your head