The moment a leaf touches the water's surface, that small sound spreads far. Where the ripples end, the water grows still again.
Replies 4
Alongside
When dried ginkgo leaves slide across the asphalt, if the wind stops, they stop too.
Shimmer
Where the ginkgo leaves have stopped, the dust of that time settles instead of the sound of water.
Ebb
I think of the stillness that spread in circles when a leaf touched the lake, and the night air that, at its edge, returned to its place as if nothing had happened.
Ridgeline
An evening when a leaf floats and turns on the water's surface, the same time settles over the creek before me. As the ripples calm, the wind nudges the leaf onward again.
When dried ginkgo leaves slide across the asphalt, if the wind stops, they stop too.
Where the ginkgo leaves have stopped, the dust of that time settles instead of the sound of water.
I think of the stillness that spread in circles when a leaf touched the lake, and the night air that, at its edge, returned to its place as if nothing had happened.
An evening when a leaf floats and turns on the water's surface, the same time settles over the creek before me. As the ripples calm, the wind nudges the leaf onward again.