Published Poems

Paradise

Paradise

                        after “The Water Lily Pond” Claude Monet

On the bridge of my paradise,

I watch the water lilies quilt together.

The coots paddle among them,

dive for wild celery.

If I remain still, they will swim past me.

Otherwise, they will paddle to a new opening

in the lily tapestry.  The purple gallinule,

with its long yellow legs and toes,

limbs that let it float

on the lily pads, joins the coots.

In the green-brown marsh grasses,

a marsh wren trills.  I can only glimpse it

as it flits among the reeds,

gleaning for insects.

Sprinting among the pads,

the water bug floats on the surface,

its feet making small circles as it oars about.

The decaying log holds the red painted slider

catching the sun.  At the slightest movement,

it will slip into the water. Lurking in the water,

the snapping turtle lies in wait. Dragonflies

helicopter in the air as they scout for bugs.

Evening looms, the sun purples the clouds,

the pond closes to the day.  Rafts of coots float

through the night, dragonflies and wrens hitch

themselves to the reeds.

But night brings new visitors to the pond,

the bull frog awakens to call across the water

for a mate.  The raccoon and her kits

search for crawdads in the shallows.

The pond settles in shades of black, grey and white. 

The night cools, the pond’s guests arrive.

                                                                        Zephyr Review

                                                                        2022