bashō

wrapped in
a merino shawl
I watch                                   
forked lightning sprint
across a smudged sky

hiding
lies behind smiles
the games
he plays quick-stepping
through each day

uncovering
truth in each charade
the scent
of charred embers                  
imbued with sorrow

sunshine slants
between window slats
the changing
patterns through each day…
time to consider choices

the river
alters old channels…
in relentless ebb and flow
embraces
new pathways

a flood
after weeks of rain
brings regeneration…
I lock the front door
and move interstate

Gwen Bitti and Marilyn Humbert