Old Patch

The pond full of pebbles
Cast by the shore visitors
The water shimmers, though choked,
The pond still bears its name,
Nothing can change its existence,
Like a big hole in the middle of the rice filelds,
All since I've known,
Nothing still has.
Seasons have come and go,
The cranes still flock their season,
Fish there though not much is left,
Thy still stop by in rememberance,
We don't bathe there any more,
The water is too less to swim they say,
I still frequent there,
To toss a pebble or two.