Pond
by Jessica DiNapoli

Escaped, crisp leaves have fallen into the pond
They hardly cause a ripple but instead float on
They do not disturb the reflection I see
Of scarred rocks and colored trees.
The yellows I see behind me
Are in the vivid in their reflections
As are tall reds and oranges
Reaching out atop brown trunks
Nestled towards the bottom lies dark soil
Hardly seen in the pond.
Yet its there supporting the trees
And their colors above.
Last are the beige rocks
Scarred with the dark lines and cracks
Revealing their age
But with scars, cracks, and colors
A perfect picture sits on the pond.

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