Water Flowing

Islands of moss,

In a sea of leaves -

All returning to the earth.

This way and that

The river flows

Running by its internal logic,

Rain in the mountains

Gathering in the seas.

Across the western sky,

Wedges of swans

Arriving from the north,

The surface of the pond catches all.

Silvered marbling

On the estuary’s flanks at low tide,

Alive in low angled light.

Dragon spirit running in from sea.

The sky’s full belly

Rubs along the earth

Leaving a slick wet trace

Coating the sodden leaves.

Pages flutter open

Empty of content.

The pen is silent now

Only the wind turns.