The stream in the woods
Sparkling rushes in the sun.
It lightly murmurs.

The rain is over;
Puddles mirror in the field.
The sun claims its own.

A man and two dogs;
He pulls them--they surge forward;
Who is walking whom?

A still pile of fur;
Raccoon still sleeps by the snow.
Its soul has long gone.

The snow is filthy;
Its whiteness tempered by dirt.
Elements battle.

The wind or a stream?
There's a rushing in the woods.
Air mimics water.

The black dog sees me;
He stops, pees, and turns around
His tail like a sail.