SLOW EXHALE

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sparkling sunlight filters through 
the willow tree’s slender branches,
speckling the water’s surface~ 
a montage of green coins.  

Koi swim gracefully just below the surface, 
choreographed by gentle noontime breezes~
their forms seem like an artist’s colorful brushstrokes,
orange bleeding into white,  
black dissolving into gold.  

A koi near the surface,  
its gills flaring slow,  
mouth open in a silent O  
as if it’s savoring the sky.  

The water remembers every movement, 
every turn, every glide, every moment
leaving a lasting trace~  
yet gives nothing back  
but the quiet hum of holding.  

Above, a dragonfly lights,  
its wings thinner than regret,  
casting no shadow,  
only the briefest interruption of light.  

And for a moment,  
the pond is not just water,  
not just fish,  
but the world’s slow exhale~  
something between prayer  
and perfectly still hunger.  

You may read the accompanying memoir vignette here at Poetry Soup:
 poetrysoup.com/short_stories/magic_at_the_koi_pond_13577

12th gradefishsilencewaterfree verse

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