the poetry of Charles Fry

6 August 1994

snoitcelfer

out on an Evening Walk
i gaze down into the water
feeding city dulled eyes
that see in the stillness
left by the wind
(which perhaps went
chasing the clouds
that billow in the water
(but looking up
my real eyes see
it is the
small waves who are kneading the clouds like dough)
far away from the
dissipating mountain
that lingers till its return)
a drifting fish
out on an Evening Float
to gaze up into our world
at the trees and the mountains and the clouds and the occasional rambler
who only through peace
can penetrate the surface

Copyright © 1994 Charles Fry