Tiger Riding for Beginners

Traveling Poet Philosopher & Occasional Wiseacre

mountain’s missing top
tells that it’s a volcano,
and once had a top

endless tall grass.
then, with a single step,
a lake appears

a sparrow 
stops in mid-peck
to eyeball me

over the crest, the
world turns from grassy pasture
to barren desert

autumn landscape
chaotically mirrored
on black water

the volcano hides
in a blanket of clouds,
and sleeps past noon

in a color storm 
of roiling koi, a plain
white fish sticks out

the lotus stands
boldly in pink & yellow;
one petal fallen

baby monkey
seems to contemplate chains,
or i anthropomorphize?

two doves dine
on temple offerings,
untroubled by smoke