The Poisoned Pond
Posted by Gaspard on 2011-01-5 13:29:57, Wednesday
On gentler days
it mirrors the sky
like a painting
when the wind
whips through
the dry air
it ripples
from a distance
like a bubbling
cauldron of tiny stars
and at dusk
it bleeds
from the sun
it's cool
to the touch
and feels
right
cupped
in the hands
cradled
in the mouth
it quenches
when swallowed
refreshes
then pain
ensues deep
inside, numbness
visions, dizziness
delirium
dreams dying
a few cells at a time
with every trip
to the only water
within reach
then it passes....
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