Misty Meadow Fog Poem by John Leon

Yellow streaks of lily pads
Float upside down in the lake bed
Rarely spoken a
Word without token to

Beads of glass water
Move all along on to the
Massive green giants, who
Stand in defiance, while

Fields without warning
Prance back and forth, mourning
The passing of whom they've not
Seen, but they knew
Tossing and tossing the
Meadow at noon

Saw an elm fall,
I recall
Must have not heard
A thing at all

Tens of perches,
From their log
Came forth like water,
Both clear and true
Under the fog of the
Meadow anew

Down like leaves,
On to the grass
Sky born melon has
Come to pass

Creeks sing like churches
A lonesome dove perches
Atop of the choir,
The air lit like fire, while

Clouds fall from heaven
Collapse upon everyone
Taking in all of these
Things I once knew
Lost,
But not lost,
In the
Meadow
I knew