rippling across the pond
it bobs
sluices of water
ripple
a line dropped
by a frightened child
goldfish
dropped on the grass
a baited worm
swallowed
caught in a gaping mouth
the child frightened
ran off
the fish died
too long out of water.
Each person is but a grain of sand resting beside the sea. This thought sets the tone for Jill Eisnaugle’s latest poetry collection, Beside Still Waters.
Chrissy
Be safe,
Karen