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The Pond
On the back way
there are planks laid
across the swampy places,
jet black loam where water
pools in the dents,
a place on the path
I double back to
and catch myself returning
mirrored in a sheet
of water, the world
doubled back
in the glassy pool:
wind animates the leaves
and the glint shaken from them
winks flickering
in the pond dreaming
at the secret center
past the last screen
of ferns and creepers, bramble
entanglements
and periphrastic
evasions this place
a steady witness for
the rehearsal of a ghostly
life in signs
and tokens, clairvoyant
the way dreams
betray us to ourselves
in a changeling masquerade
uncovering
another nature
another self
to read in the face there
in the water till reflection
troubles the mirror.
~ From Knopf Poetry
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