November 22, 2004

The Beautiful Pattern of Nature

Streams glide down my roof
From my position,
one can only hear the rain,
not see it.

From hundreds of metres
Falling in place.

Autumn, every time, every year
Every place, I can smell you
See you and enjoy it.
Every time I discover a new look
in your familiar face.

Bikers with bowed heads, passing puddles
Coloured leaves, small and big
Wet roads, dark, the cold I caught
The colours of the light, the last green
in the sun. It is all you.


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