The lake is like glass
With its lei of lily pads
Four fishermen on the dock
Are swapping lies from their lawn chairs
Off in the distance the high-rise peaks
Are encased in the morning mist.

Towering woodlands give way
To dense bushes and grassy meadows
A vee of honking geese flies overhead
While at ground level
Little birds are flitting and twittering
Through the undergrowth.

Fallen leaves litter the trail
Don’t step on the slugs!
My companions are mostly
Joggers and dog-walkers
The earlier I go, the fewer I see.

Houses hidden in the forest
Give rise to wondering
Who lives there
And how often
Do they tread this trail?