An empty sky

The algae lie peacefully with a yogic ibis
Its one leg on the rock, its white double

In waters, doing its penance for the day.
The boatman scoops up algae into boat

From the ripple breaking him into pieces.
A dappled lake is all that we are looking

Smoke curls beyond shore are not thing
Not a high point when a sun plays hooky

Shore trees look inward,the eyes closed.
Smoke disappears to turn an empty sky.