Short Progenitors Poems

The lake is black, high country water,
ocular.

Beneath the surface, a species
reflected in an amniotic sky.

There are three here,
three progenitors
searching for the lost children
of mankind: -

water, sky and
that which watches.

Three wombs that wait expectantly.

The water stirs,
something born too deep
wants to emerge.

Let it!...

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