What can be more deceptive

than this October sun?

It promises new beginnings.

Old men dipping biscuits

in weak tea, smile

to reveal missing teeth,

as they turn from dying leaves,

falling from denuded trees.

They don’t think of what’s to come.

They think only of the sun,

of things not yet done.

But when I laugh at them,

my laugh is hollow.

I, of course, am one of them.

– after Lu Yu

George Freek, USA