Lake Weslemekoon

There was a lilypad

pushed by ripples

to rub up against the next,

opening like a baby’s mouth

to gawp against its neighbour.


I watched the green

look like it was eating its brother

but each soft undulation

left both unharmed.


There was a rain falling

so gently

it left no splashes on the lake,

reminding my body

of being watered.


Flowers in full bloom

on the surface,

other leaves suspended below,

upheld by water

and me and this damp page

receiving gratefully.

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