A large puddle separates into
two tire streams on a rural dirt lane,
unites at the horizon. Bare trees
sprout, lush spring-green grass, red fresh-tilled soil,
two ditches of dried plants turned golden.
O, those water-ribbons of light point
to azure skies thick with wide, white clouds.  

~ a 7×7 poem

https://www.artforum.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/09/picksimg_large-28.jpg