April Sunlight On Lake Water

Dancing on their embarkations, triangular-arrowheads enter the water dispersing a blinding light, shimmering- like a thousand fish mouths opening, biting—then just as suddenly closing. 'Each wave mirroring the next as if- an oily mercury serpent was passing. With all its diamante alloy-scales flashing against some current that held it fast, fast-enough that I, might, repeatedly gasp.' 'Such things as these often go unseen, as if it were a figment of a dream the serpent becomes a rainbow, the rainbow becomes a serpent. And no one recalls the dream.' The beauty depth of all we've just, seen. There is an open jarred cavity in us all. An eternal eye that sees entirely-everything, it doesn't matter if for a second you blink- its lens has already been light-exposed the film in the darkroom fully developed.