The lake watches on
as we glare at its cold depths—
humans, passing clouds.
Silent observer
Tag: reality
Never judge
Covers can mislead:
rugged blemishes on trees—
life indicators.
Ancient
Old, spotted, wrinkled—
testament to life well lived,
grand dad eucalypt.
Yearn
Looking to the skies,
wishing passing clouds would stay—
forests and farmers.
Frozen
The last of its kind,
going bald, still bold, holds ground—
locked in time, autumn.
