surface tension a bird might have drown in it, beaten wings, quivering. the black water of a shallow fish pond reflects the silence. opaque like a pudding, sluggish as soup; ... I am drifting breathless like a bubble, waiting - waiting, lying so still, trying to conceal a deeper spot, an undercurrent within. like a jellyfish- hidden in a storm, floating tautly, drifting inward.
JAMES W JOHNSON