Ophelia of the Pond by Taylor Graham

You'd say she might be dreaming,
watching lilypads and clouds
while the pond was draining, so
she drifted counterclockwise down.


Waterlilies floating white & flirting
lily-fashion with the breeze
or maybe dozing, singing lily-lays
    they simply never noticed.


An April pond's no deeper than
the sky. She spiraled easy, soft
as lily-down, her face reflected
up, still lily-white and smiling.

Copyright © 1998, 1999 by Taylor Graham
Reflections can be sent to Taylor Graham.

 

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