
amidst all the trails
where cyclists and runners roam
deer frolic and play

amidst all the trails
where cyclists and runners roam
deer frolic and play
the sound
of placid water
breaking

a blue heron
takes flight
Something-greater calls
Something-deep-within responds
leaving nets behind
the stream keeps flowing
what now floats on the surface
gone within a blink
yet writers are remembered
by ink which flowed from their pens
sunrise and sunset
sometimes the only colors
on a winter day
day after day of greyness
where oh where is the North Star