Nothing to see here
Just a pile of pipes, sitting
Alone, forgotten

Nothing to see here
Just a pile of pipes, sitting
Alone, forgotten

Raindrops gathering
On lily pads. Water is
The nectar of life.

The purple sweetness
Of wisteria is near
I glance over, shy

Morning or midnight
The rose opens when it’s time
She waits for no one

Two lights looking down
As I’m looking up at them
Perspective matters
