Author Hiroaki Sato Through frosted maples, myriad trees, the water meanders; we follow a woodcutters' path with fallen leaves piled high. Suddenly the mountain opens up to a wide space in the woods where all the streams come together into a single flow. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments