A balanced stone sits still amongst
A stream of animosity, arousing
Active hostility within the water.
The fish greet it warmly, with big
Bowl-shaped lips that whisper
Rumors, unkind and scarcely told,
Of the catfish in the overgrown reeds
A surprise attack that sends wave-like
Ripples crashing through the plane,
Skimming the water’s silver skin
Subtly, perhaps even shyly, as the
Plump, flat calm shrivels away
Replaced by drumming hearts
And small shivering reflections.