Relating Metaphorically

 

Riding by a pond, I was struck by

how calm it was, its surface a mirror,

and decided on the spot

that we needed new metaphors,

the looking-glass waters now a cliché.

 

Okay, I’m riding by a still pond,

its surface smooth, wet, and reflective,

the moist lens of a cat’s eye.

Now, that’s a stretch, and not much

of a contribution to the canon.

 

I’m still riding by a sun-drenched pond

settled by invisible shafts of light

scattering clouds away with the wind.

Okay, if it’s windy, how can the pond be still?

Maybe this just isn’t worth it.

 

Still struggling to gloss a simple scene,

I’m beginning to fade riding so often

by a black obsidian pond,

skylines and rippling landscapes,

frozen in space for forever and a day.

I’ll start over: while pumping my legs

on my noble two-wheeled steed

I’m struck by an adorable essence

of H2O shimmering in the sun,

mimicking the world above.

 

In light of all this, let me query

have you seen lately a tree

that is as a lovely poem?

I like trees a lot,

So there.