Pink blotched clear blue lake,
now turning a deep green,
Two mosquitoes circling each other
rise in the air
A creature jumps in
leaving ripples dancing
growing outward
to nothingness
Mink, muskrat or otter
does it matter?
Moments pass by
the geese are still making their calls
Ripples form again
as the breeze sweeps in
Bare trees still shaking off winter
double themselves on water
a deeper reflection
their skeletons the blackest of blacks
No pinks no blues no more;
hints of orange fade
between real and shadow.
