Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Peripherally Mindful

In the pool open truly
to the yard, sky,
I skim a wind's flippancy of
fir and white pine needles,
a million red maple leaves draped
like tiny apprentices to the past,
one lime-bright locust frond.

What I know of chlorine
makes basic adjustments
to future algae, green and black,
beetles abide, bloated frogs 
tire, turn and float.