In Solitude I Trust

The noise of the world

is the rustling

of leaves

and creaking,

swaying

of bamboo—

even that

may fade away.

an earthy scent

rises from the soil

beneath

the panda paws

as sunlight

filters through

the leaves

and in the shadows

another panda roams,

their dark

eyes lock—

they bleat in turn

and off they trot—

two frivolous

trails of fur.