A misty thunderstorm breeze
waves the flags of our fathers
over a memorial to their
sacrificed lives

Garden flowers bow
to each other in imagined
reverence like Buddhist
monks before morning meditation

A sound of thunder in
the distance premeditates
the weather’s intent,
a dog barks at nothing

The swollen river flows
endlessly in projected
indifference to the
surrounding landscape

Geese, marshaling their young
from the intrusion of
a human swim away from
shore to safety within current

And I with wet boots and
quiet regard cannot add to
or take away anything from this,
that will make any difference