of the window shades shining
on the wooden floor
we are born alone
like the backyard maple tree
we will die alone
the sun is setting
water passes under bridge
leaf rides the current
we are born alone
like the backyard maple tree
we will die alone
the sun is setting
water passes under bridge
leaf rides the current
as young as
morning dew
on the grass
early morning
campfires
smoke coloring
the sky
filling the air
trees and branches
leaves of the ground
stones of various shapes
animal noises
an old trail
that goes nowhere
deeper in the forest
deeper deeper deeper
mysteries, myths
legends
the woods are full of them
unwelcoming spirits
often have valid reasons for
being so
not sure
what happened
born under
an inauspicious star
there is wisdom
that shouldn’t be gained
from experience
thinking back
so sorry
I could have wasted time
many better ways
dripping icicles
forest full of life
a massive dichotomy
also full of death
the pretty snowflake
each one is original
yet all are the same
will be over soon
just a small raindrop
on a hot summer sidewalk
here briefly, soon gone
river passing by
tranquility of the sound
beauty of the world