Are the thoughts and pictures too scattered to be poetic? What is here that I don't see? Your eyes are needed.
Man in the Moon
A silver fish flashes in the lake
without a wave or ring or wake
against the aqua night.
Upon the pool in the foamy light
with fin as sail to guide among
stars it glistens in the moment.
The surface stays unbroken,
fish and fin appear as token,
but still sustains the dream.
The man picks up his oar,
dips toward the distant shore,
and wades out in the dawn.
Man in the Moon
A silver fish flashes in the lake
without a wave or ring or wake
against the aqua night.
Upon the pool in the foamy light
with fin as sail to guide among
stars it glistens in the moment.
The surface stays unbroken,
fish and fin appear as token,
but still sustains the dream.
The man picks up his oar,
dips toward the distant shore,
and wades out in the dawn.