Near a fountain
A red bench—a place
To rest, and be refreshed,
The water flowing, flowing
From the blue mountains.
The wind is high above
Dancing in the trees,
Crowns swaying
From side to side…
How cool the breeze
Against my face!
Now an echo—a song
Vigorously sung
By a bird, and suddenly
All is still.
Night has come.
The dark forest keeps
Its secrets...
A path nearby —
I ask
“Whereto does it lead?”
In the distance
City lights
And again
The sound of the bird
Now very close…it is
Near my feet—!
