In the pond

Chicago Botanic Garden


Sunlight filters through conifers
revealing a multi-colored surface
across the water
so still I wonder if it breathes
When the breeze picks up
the colors mix and mingle in ripples
small licks at its borders

Do you suppose when I bend to look
I could see every color of my own self
reflected back to me?
Soft colored echoes of then and now
blues woven throughout
reds in long, vicious, diagonal streaks
across my autobiography


photo used with permission


7 thoughts on “In the pond

  1. The implied violence of experience, laid upon the scrim of the pond, is scary and also deeply moving. It breaks the illusion of a landscape as a purely calm place, too. A landscape itself, like a life, carries its scars and depressions and places of light, hard and soft places alike. This is what I love about poetry and poets, about the work we do.


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