Storm damage

At a small pond, encircled by storm-worn willow trees,

three geese, a couple of ducks

prance about through the brown autumn leaves

seemingly indifferent to the infraction in the order man seems to seek.

Today is a cold day,

small clouds of vapour emanate from my mouth

with every breath I exhale,

a good day to be alive.

Very few dry, brittle leaves remain

on the surviving branches of the now naked woods.

Saw dust and small stubs where branches once grew

- the last remainders of such a violent storm -

indicate life goes on, repairs are underway.

Shall we then?

MdG, 20-11-2002