Ripples - An Analysis Into Abyss Poem by saranyan bee

One catlike evening,
I sit by the lazy pond,
with no ripples,
there are no disappearances.

by the shore, an ancient looking frog
takes plunge -
causing ripples,
disappearances.

God knows why
two pugnacious fishes squabble,
as one leans on the surface
ripples appear and

the old blue breasted
fisher comes saying grace for the supper,
the ripples of their claw travel like any other,
circles. More circles till the edges of the water hole.

I hang back as the sun dips
seeking absolution for the day’s heat
into the far end of the west-side pond,
sun’s ripples carry orange hue.

let me throw these words
into the fugitive images
and be the ripples which disappear!


Saranyan BV © March 2011