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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