for now nothing but the rain

in the aftermath of solstice

subtle rivers flow on

slipping into depths unseen

stars hover in the cosmos

guardians or voyeurs

too distant to discern

moon lingers into dawn

quiet light

reflects in your eyes

what thoughts have you today

what troubles what joys

what promises do you make

to no one in case you don’t

follow through

praise the winter moth

there amid a strand of old man’s beard

and cedar bark from the forest floor

hope fluttering in its wings~