The sound of swishing
wakens the still slumbering morning
A smoggy cough catipults itself
from its cave
rebouding from misty trees
till it finds and fills my ears.
A spew of smoke spreads itself
across the damp air
This time the swish is followed
by a plop,
The sound of water falling upon water
sounds so gentle when silence
surrounds us.
Tiny ripples are born, before they
grow and break,
I see my thoughts reflecting
on the glittering water.
A family of just fallen leaves
lingering mid air,
the moment they are most alive they die.
I see past lovers slowly walking away.
A lonely bird sings a lonely song
The trees are sympathetic,
They sway like an melancholy audience.
The fishermen pack up, defeated
Yet at peace,
I crave their optimism.
Not Long Left
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-an-unamed-lake-as-the-sun-ascends/
