Early Winter

Early Winter

Throughout the early winter afternoons

I sat on a bench by the lake

Quietly staring at the lake without a word

The sky was surprisingly blue

Surprising silence all around

The sun was just right

Perfect for a nap, for contemplation

The lazy, motionless lake

Opened its big heart

Receiving millions of silvery golden needles

A neon dress

Showing the flexibility of the water

A few weeping willows on the shore

Facing the sun's charming face

With their slender waists

The song of winter is sung in a flamboyant manner

Occasionally a breeze passes by

Gently breaking the tranquility of the lake

The waves splashing like silver scales

The song of the water is written