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Pond

Pond

Between you and me there’s a pond.
The usual muck, but more of it.
The occasional lilypad, outlined by scum.
The scum, and the darkness, opacifying the pacific.
The pacific, obscuring our muck, mud, mess.

I cannot see
A fingertip’s length below the surface.
I cannot move
The pond.
I cannot remember
Its birth.

Was there a flood?
When did it happen?
Why did it happen?
I am too afraid to ask.

 

© Kate Eunah Lee, 5/30/2018

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