December 22, 2019

• by the river

  

  bamboo bends in the wind
  kissing the ground like a
  lithe-hipped dancer.

  maple trees cradle
  their shadows where
  the path down cold mountain

  is overgrown with sumac
  and other invasive species.
  the moon climbed up the solstice

  and is resting now with vishnu
  on a cloud. last night's candle
  is asleep in its wax tears--

  leave-taking at its simplest.
  growing up is hard, watching
  offspring grow up--also hard.

  if there is a guiding light from heaven
  i believe it is the moon
  in a poem that dreams

  of the scurry of a fawn
  in a house of ferns
  by the river that flows without ceasing

  • 5:30 am
  • Comments Off