Sunlight spills into large glass windows
and greenness and life stirs anew,
and ten seconds later, the clouds roll on in
and rain showers us in the gray-covered din.
The constant and distant buzz of a scooter,
or friends arm-in-arm, enjoying rare warmth,
and people in dresses and suits on their bikes,
until night comes again and their party-mood strikes.
And I, sitting here, in a hot-coffee mood,
breathe in the humidity and listen in tune
to the streets and the people living their day
while I, in my English-ness,
have nothing Dutch to say.
