A Pool, Late Afternoon
The pool water heaves, reflecting
the white stones on the far rim
in eyes that stretch, wink in two:
fingers that lick and break away
like lazy fire.
Below the flames are walls of
shimmering ivy and phantom trees:
blue, dark and pale,
and green of thirst.
The children now have gone.
Soon the surface will grow heavier
and smooth itself until
it holds the sun, as still as ice.