(midnight. – promoted by ek hornbeck)
In the shiver
of cold dew,
the lake’s mirror ripples.
In the cold dawn,
your footprints leave their mark
on the untrodden grass.
Not one Lakka leaf has fallen here.
But, after a barbaric cycle,
the warm soul of Autumn has returned.
The skiff sails back to the old wharf,
carrying moonlight in its hood.
Thich Nhat Hanh, circa 1966
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I hope everyone is getting some peace and downtime during this crazy week.
Art and poetry keep one’s perspective from getting too tainted thanks. Nice poem.