The fog sits thick
over Lake Washington –
immovable like an activist.
Wakes come in from
behind the curtain –
in an endless supply –
to tickle the shore.
Watching change,
a trout’s splash
ripples the water
which in turn ripples thoughts
through my mind.
It occurs to me that as I try to describe
nature’s song, I ripple thoughts
through your mind.
If my actions are the only thing
that I truly have,
then perhaps the best thing I
could do is nurture growth.
