The Loon glides past the tomato plants in our backyard – Suspended in time with the rest of the mural painted by my wife. The plants will pass away with the coming Fall, while the Loon continues in motionless movement through the grains of the wood board on which its reality clings.
the blue water ripples
across hard wooden surface –
frozen as winter;
ceaseless seasons cascade past,
how are we so different ?