
bare branches,
in the Winter forest,
look frost-covered.

bare branches,
in the Winter forest,
look frost-covered.

Winter morn:
still waters reflect each twig
of bare trees.

a barren tree
clings to a cliff face;
winds have nothing to shake.

frangipani
have dropped leaves & blossoms,
& stand gnarled & nude.

a barren tree
stands in the temple yard:
winter’s guardian.
The trees will soon be barren, all. It is that time of year -- the Fall. The understory never was, and can't now house the insect buzz. And, so, the woods stand silently -- nothing treads in peace, nor violently. It's empty; devoid of motion: life hides below, as in Oceans. It does feel like we're out to sea - a strange place where both sides are lee. And - so - we're stuck, we can't move on, but can see promise over yon.