Cow moos through the mist;
Crows caw from beyond blankness.
All sounds are muted.
What road lies ahead?
Softly, clouds have come to earth;
The sky is waiting.
On edge of the branch
A swelling drop of water,
Round and crystalline.
Yesterday, the leaf
Shockingly bright green, vibrant;
Today, yellowing.
Bower of branches
Barren, slender, without leaves,
Still shelters the stump.
Out of the gray fog
A lone figure emerges--
Another walker.
Hanging in mid air
A sparkling gossamer shroud:
Tent caterpillars.
Rock could not hold it,
The piggy backing sapling;
So now it bows down.
No comments:
Post a Comment