The Weir

Don't be deceived

By the beauty of the weir

With its frothy white waters

Your gaze

Imagines constancy

Where there is none

What you see

Is a beautiful lie

An illusion of permanence

While waters

Keep moving on

But don't be convinced

by the grumbling

That all is lost and gone

Of a cynical mind

For your gaze still captures

The pure white essence

Of all that was

Loved and left behind