scraps of impermanence lie scattered
where emotions pool in sluggish flow,
like skins shed but not abandoned,
the essence of transformation glints
at the portal into an uncertain future
On day 120 of 365 Days Wild I sent some time sitting beside the pond. In the summer, the meadow tends to be my favourite place to sit, but once the flowers have gone I tend to spend much more time beside the pond. The leaves are just starting to turn and the first golden wisps have drifted down to lay upon the ssurface of the water.
That’s all for today. Have you been out and about recently? Just leave a comment below and tell me all about it. I’d love to know.
2 thoughts on “At the Water’s Edge”
My walk this morning was accompanied by the tremendous buzzing and buzz of activity every time I passed by the copious ivy. Innumerable wasps and honey bees gorging themselves on pure nectar.
Your poem and pictures are very pretty!
Comments are closed.