Author Jonathan Chaves White clouds like a scarf enfold the mountain's waist; stone steps hang in space ā a long, narrow path. Alone, leaning on my cane, I gaze intently at the scene, and feel like answering the murmuring brook with the music of my flute. 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