Small wooden boat drifting quietly on a river

Here comes my worries, light and heavy, In a humble boat that floats already. The river takes them, soft and free, As if it always meant to be. They never mine to cage or keep, Just passing guests that wander deep. No vow to stay, no weight to bear, Just come and go like winter air. They pass, because that’s how they go, And leave my heart as light as snow.

monochrome