the enigma, I
beneath this interstitial sky
Greenlake
sun across water
frozen in interference
not patterns, but
waves.
Still center, all around life
moves
black ink squirtgun silhouette tree-tips
shake liquidly
in wind's welcome grip.
On the strip, joggers jounce
shadows stab towards green and blacktop rising
over wintering beggars' coats
burrowed
beneath a scrabble of twigs and leaves
a skein occluding
grass
its tickling, shifting
tattered brown ciliate hair damp
reflecting emerald arrowhead light
between circlers
at Greenlake valence.
Dynamically balanced
religiously painless.
the enigma, I