Recalling a poet, in a year old death,
We would think of poet’s old wishes
And our own by the river in a gloom
As the lone tree’s wishes stood by it.
The tree’s wishes stood by the river
And the river’s waters stood silently
A dammed up body in deep silence
With warning gloom stuck in mud.
Poet is gnarled tree by muddy river.
His calm is stuck in year old death.