If I might remember
Those moments of pure calm
Those times I think to call love
Love to see more, or love to see less
For it is almost nothing
This view, this thought
This time for contemplation
Which some may call Zen
On one day in November
Not continuously dry
Nor forever sunshine
But pleasant, yes pleasant
I took my camera
My notebook and my pencil
I walked through the round garden
Towards the white bridge
I stopped awhile, to write
Some pressing words
I stopped, to take
Some indicative photographs
I was alone
But I was not alone
I had love
I had my memories
