Like drawings on the beach sand,
what looked right looks not right
as my eyes glaze over traces of my writing.
As if reaching out to the image of myself
reflected on a pond water,
only for the image to disintegrate reverberating water surface,
writing for the perfect image felt like a mirage.
Yet again, we hoist our belt and trudge on with our keyboard.
One day, it will be captured in our mind.
5.28.2025
Ralph with Coffee 