Thursday, April 14, 2011

Beneath the pond

Last night I went to the pool 
beneath the pond, our secret
place. And I wonder 
whether the man in the tower can see 
through black water. He won’t let me, 
I know. I am
not the only one to follow 
wild and frantic rivers. We meet 
in silence, cross the water to an island 
giving shelter to those who dance 
in limpid unspoiled sand.