A glint of gold beneath lily pad reflections,
She gracefully glides.
Investigating my tiny disturbance of the surface
In expectation, she hesitates;
Then, momentarily slips away
Into shimmering shadows of protection.
With waving finage riding
The liquid depths of long languid laps,
She nonchalantly browses the greens,
Returning repeatedly mid sunlight and shade,
Cautiously seeking the prize.
Donna Black
