Drizzle on a Lake
On a weathered bench, shore-side I lingered
In a mist of cold and fog.
Pungent odors, damp wood, unearthed worms
Spoke of spring’s sluggish beginning
A sprinkle of rain fell undisturbed
On earth’s tympanic mirror
Tiny ringlets of splash dissolve and
Return again…an agonizing grace.
Oh, maestro of this mystic dance, please
Meet me face to face