I find my reflection in the water,
The serene surface, all stagnant.
The weeping willows bent low,
Almost mourning over the water,
And still, not even a leaf moving.
The air is tight with gloom.
The clouds come in wisps,
And flow away, transitive, free.
The  wind kissing my neck,
Lightly fingers my hair,
Lingering awhile in my presence,
Before taking my essence to a stranger.
Maybe I'm waiting for him,
And he's waiting to breathe in
My scent and lose himself,
In the feel of my body in his embrace.
I throw a stone into the water,
It skipping off with a gloop!
Leaving behind tiny ripples,
That omit each other with time,
Just as I see my fading existence,
Reflected into the water.