The Truth Floats More Like Murk

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contempverse morary odern poem contemporary poem

In the evening mist the frogs are loud.  ~ Yamabe Akahito

The mist that rises from the water lures

The sentimental mind to turn to wings

Of fog-like feathers.  This mistake obscures

The truth of life, the blend of mixed up things

Like croak of frogs that comes out through that haze.

The ugliness in face and in that sound

Is just as true as vapor’s rainbow’s whispered rays.

The fuzzy feeling can’t escape the ground

Of factuality.  The orange trees

Are not just wisps that settle down in dew.

The groves are solid, visited by bees

Both solid and with stings—the total view.

  The serpent moccasin awaits its prey

     Despite the beauty of the drifting spray.