These dried woods has traveled
more than my legs could imagine
taken by rough flow, dried by sun
picked by hungry beaks, a shade
for weary creatures in search
now my eyes adored them; so pretty
I am sitting by river banks, clear
no fish to see, only crystal water
shadows of rocks; taller than me
one is like lips kissing clouds
and changing as sun moves gently
to a point where it disappear
i waited 'til it became a pear
Manonton Dalan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/that-could-be/
