Willows

Willows

The leaves of the willows stir soft in their dreaming
Are mirrored in shadows that drift in the gleaming
The mouths of the small fish break through into breezes
That ripple the glitter, fold water to creases.

Glossy shards of glassy water, fractured by oars
Are cracked into mosaics.
Mosaics that shift and then lift among wavelets,
Shore-lapping an etching of leaves silhouetting
As ephemeral as Summer
as matchless as May.