pond

I am here
like the sun
mirror warped
in the pond
like the lillies
green and spoilt
like the reeds
drowned mens hair

I am here
like the tyre
wet with weeds
awash with horror
sunk, slowly, softly
bubble blown,

like the bottle

cracked and broken

peeble deep
silt soft, sand drift
I am here.

.
.
.
speak to the dark angels