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Carol

When I was just a puddle of water with a face,

She took me in her body like a balloon

protecting me from ocean and from sun

And also from the knowledge that I had enemies, 

When they punctured her I spurted out onto green grass. 

Above me was sky and air full of pollen, 

Dragonflies and damselflies made turns 

and water-striders glid on scum.

“Come to me.” said the pond, and I slid into her,

green with the darting euglena, thick with rotifer. 

When fire came I rose up high, high, high 

clinging to the feathers of a fleeing goose.

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2 thoughts on “Carol

  1. That’s really good. You could have a second career as a poet, except that it’s almost impossible to earn a living as a poet.

    Re enemies, a friend of mine said something that I considered wise. “I have no enemies,” he said, “because it takes two to play that game.”

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