Jacques S.

Stopping by woods on a snowy evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost


The world is a stage and we are all actors there upon.

Each and every one of us 'actors' has a role to play.

Sometimes, it's too easy to hide behind a façade.

Sometimes it's hard keeping up appearences.

Especially on days like today.



At the weekend,

Unexpectedly,

a collegue,

and friend.

Was lost.

42 yrs.

We have

No details.

We don't want any.

Jacques

leaves behind

his wife and two young children.

Jacques will leave a vide.