Creekside, helpless

Alone I sit beside a tree
Which sits beside a creek.
A lonely man stares back at me:
He looks, but does not speak.

Relieved, I nod in thanks to him,
His silence is a gift.
When he nods back, I grab a limb,
Release it, watch it drift.

It's journey is my focus now;
My new friend? Left behind.
I watch the twig with furrowed brow.
Our fates are intertwined.

It floats, gets caught in rocks, then, free,
Is sent over a fall
I run beside, trip, scrape my knee;
I search for what I saw

I wait beyond the dam's short drop
For my stick to emerge.
I squint into the stream, then stop.
It must still be submerged.

I sigh, and before I return
Look upward toward the sky
Thus, missed it safely leave the churn
Yes, that's a nice, fine lie.

A twig that I did not see crushed
Must still be floating, see?
I think this and my friend (still hushed)
Shrugs sadly back at me.

Snow-Ku

It comes from above,
Coats the ground for just a day:
Manna, for the eyes.

Autumn

I wrote this one a few months back:

Ode to fleeting beauty

Your nights are brisk, dear Fall,

Your sunsets light the sky afire.

You, mirroring, perhaps, the shades of trees

Which I now watch with awe:

This yearly show where you inspire

Bright leaves ablaze, then floating on the breze.

And yet, you tease my heart

Your gorgeous brilliance doomed to fade

And how can I embrace your waning strength?

Yet I’m wrong from the start

No matter how briefly you stayed.

Its depth of love that matters, not the length.