"mountain sounds carry a chill wisdom
an upswelling spring whispers subtle tales"
– Shih Shu, 106












Underneath the thicket of cattails and sedge grass
a small creek gurgles unseen its secrets
an early wind nudges a lone oak leaf
it lands on my shoulder like a soft hand

I could walk miles along a creekside
these new boots dry and warm as down feathers
four geese an arrow across the low fog
bold as music honking to time