RIPPLES WITHIN

I watched the water,
Weighted with reflections,
Rippling away in the wind,
The perfect pool pulsing
In the park; fluid, frivolous,
Hidden in a hallow dug out
Behind an empty, unused seat,
Far from the footprints of boots
And buggies or the suction
Of the sun to swallow it up.

I watched that worrying water
And wondered if all its ripples
Were fuelled first on fear or
Something so much more sinister,
A sunken sin beneath the surface,
Something rough that rendered it
Raw and then I wondered, perhaps,
If its motions were just reactions,
Tremors triggered to the changes
All the while riddling and rumbling
And ruminating deep within me.

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