Thursday, January 24, 2019

My Zen Garden . .


 I dreamed of white sand
Raked in watery ripples,
Embracing black stones. 



Awaking, I found
 Winter, that sly old Zen monk,
At work in my pond.


2 comments:

Barbara Rogers said...

Oh you are also a poet! I should have known! Beautiful capture of winter's hand.

NCmountainwoman said...

Yes, winter takes over for a while.