Untitled, n = 2,028
Into a pond, a pebble is dropped.
It lands in the center with an audible plop.
Ripples expand, making little hills;
until they stop and the pond is still.
The pebble settles down, to the bottom;
the water slides around, that's its custom.
A frog hops by and sees the reflectance;
but there is no mirror, just open acceptance.
n = 2,028; February 27th, 2017
I was thinking not thinking and this came to me.