I rest on fallen leaves.
Here we are together
on the banks of peace.
The air colder than ice,
the water not far behind.
Melted from last winter
into this glass divine.
As mist drifts across the loch,
six ospreys cut through the stillness,
hiding in the haze
as they touch down on the surface.
Not unlike the autumn leaves
that twirl down before they float
in ripples of their own making,
here in their final resting place.
As my grays shimmer in this morning light,
I hope to return one more fall.
I’ll gently rise and softly call,
good day and joy be to you all.
