A bright sunny day and the ground next to the lake,

still had the white snow, left by the last snowstorm,

lying in the shadows of the overhanging granite cliffs.

The swans swam in the shallow end diving occasionally,

for their meal, and then sailing gracefully on the water.

The Geese swam at another end with the occasional honk.

My day is busy and the afternoon fleeting away in writing,

Who has come and who has gone is not my concern,

I am busy with my life and imagining tales not told.

Where did that idea go, as I had it in my grasp?

Maybe it is time for a nap and let existence be.

RK

The color of truth is grey. -Andre Gide, author, Nobel laureate (22 Nov 1869-1951)