Red Trees

Red Trees

Projection of thoughts;

time slips by underfoot

like time-lapse photography terrain.

The sun implodes,

a clear illumination in its place,

replacing secret shadows -

but some shadows still exist.

We will walk to the green banks;

White isosceles triangle angles

soaring up from transparent blue water;

motionless, a line of red trees,

all the same, and different,

in a row that moves through forever.

We will rest under the red tress,

and with clear eyes follow their line.

We will drink pure water,

and new fermentations -

Designer food.

We will toss dreams in the air;

like spores they will float

to future points along the river,

then circle around

and return as breezes at our backs

rustling the red leaves.