Irritated, standing shoreside of that peaceful pond
at the edge of the meadow, its green stagnant
scum passive until Basho’s frog
plops through the surface and leaves
a couple of bubbles at the center of brand-new
concentric circles whose arcs ripple toward me
--an inciting event, cue sunbeam, then squirrel
to scramble amidst underbrush like a distracted
old man with dementia scattering junk mail
by the foyer, fidgeting through his sock drawer
and then the freezer wondering where the keys
to the door he can’t find have gone.
~ pcm
2021-04-17
photo: 2020-04-14, Carrboro
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