Untitled, n = 2,028

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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

Notes

I was thinking not thinking and this came to me.

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