Soft wind chimes tinkle
In the sunshine on my porch.
Is it wind or light?
A bough of thin twigs
Arches over wooden gate:
A simple gesture.
The rooster won't stop,
Crowing on in the sunlight.
How can I blame him?
The shadows again,
Painted on rock, field and hill,
Never seem to stop.
Look at that dark man
Lying flat against the road.
We're joined at the feet.
A stark winter sun
Shines through the clouds and pine trees,
But it sheds no warmth.
Wind blows up the road,
Shaking the last trembling leaves
And freezing my nose.
Below frozen snow
Dark waters are still flowing
Oh so silently.
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