Beyond the river

tall  grasses  waving in the wind

picked up the shadow of a bird

moving across the vista

I have seen so many times.


I did not see the bird

but tried to find it in the sky

and wondered what I’d see.


The shadow left no trace

upon the grass —

no way for one to know

there’d been a creature in the air

progressing by.


I’ve seen some lives like this:

leaving nothing when they’re gone —

as if they’d never been.


And I am forced to wonder

if the marks I’ve made on earth

have been like shadows passing by.


This entry was posted in Poems. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply