Come January

By
Warm water splashes
in the shallows
clean and sun and
happiness
clear and
crystalline
see right to the bottom
for nothing yet hides
a fish
a plant
the golden sand
revealed in glassy
joy

The pond is young,
in spring’s new view
and still has not begun
to chill.
not yet is it afraid of sight
-and being seen

But slowly,
slowly
it will freeze
with every passing year
sugar frost on glass
waves to ripples
serene and smiling

The water’s grown deeper
the covering grown dark
what swirls beneath the surface
now looms out of sight
what thoughts and words
it may suppress
beneath the winter cover
are lost while looking in

Lament, for the spring
the lovely spring
passes all too swiftly still
Lament, for the spring
but bear on,
the pond will cry-ripe
Winter has its beauty too.





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