Changes

I fly across the sky

feathers gleaming

watching as the trees go by

the breeze like a kiss on the cheek

takes me to the mountain ash trees

they used to be as fine as a glass of wine

and I wonder

why?

As though the rocks had crumbled

and the trees flyblown

yesterday never seemed so long ago

to a normal person it looks all the same

lotuses left and lillies came

but not to me

the ocean is like a mirror

yet I don't see anything in it anymore