Fragment #6 (Oct 8, 1998).
Another nature/seasonal poem...
Drops
A pair of hungry horses, necks entwined,
dance a jig on the floor of ice covering breakfast
[? something needs to go here... ?]
Everday I pass last Fall's streams,
suspended for five month's in mid-plunge.
The Spring melt will soon release them from their
icy prison to continue their course toward the
sacred union with the life bringing flow
But some stray drop may be blown by the wind onto
a nearby rock.
This solitary pool will succomb to Summer's heat
and return to the sky, never joining the rush
downstream.
If within your confusion lies the answer, then I'll
have to sit back and enjoy the Summer's rays
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