Is the pond a kaleidoscope,
tumbling, soulless,
into accidental beauty,
or does it
in wistful deliberation
dream itself in Giverny?
Tag Archives: Reflections
January 30.19
A cold sun in the sky
twins itself on ice;
the amaryllis roisters:
it too can ignite twice.
Disconnections: September 16.18
Pond pixels at dawn
play at reflecting
rippling jigsaw
its own dawn confecting.
Connections: March 4.18
When trees hang from skies
the basement’s the roof
I walk on my head
the world is a spoof
I know it’s not water’s
placid illusion
it’s my headline-induced
cerebral contusion.
