Sitting by the pond behind our home, I watched the sunlight reflected on the trees...

On a cloudless morning, sunlight
Glances off the surface of the pond
And casts the opposite of shadows
On an ancient pine tree’s trunk
Just beyond the further bank.
First a glow at the pond’s western edge,
Then a slow shifting upwards
With the sun’s path, climbing
The creases of the pine tree’s bark,
Piercing, brightening its texture.
Later, this mirrored brilliance
Will drain away into the woods
After gilding these yellowed ferns
And, here and there, an old, green frog.