Untainted

Pond Colors – Henry Zhang

Hannah Bever

The dewy grass is luminous in the new spring sun 

Bobbing ever so slightly to the ring of distant

Wind chimes. As orchestrated, the babbling brook seems to 

Hum, harmonizing with the lulled hush of the breeze.

I smile, not at one thing in particular, but at 

The privilege to just be. The light emits an illusion

On the water of effervescent squiggles, filtering

Through the limbs of a sturdy oak. The stream bypasses the 

Oak, in reverence to its age. Water swells in pools as if 

The creek is alive, inhaling and exhaling sweet air

Into its lungs. My loose strands of hair waltz, tickling my fair

Cheeks. Startled by a “splash,” I turn to find the scene only 

Disturbed by a swish of a silver-tailed minnow, embarking

On its trek upstream. Oh, but he is not alone. He is

Accompanied by his siblings, all bunched together in 

Perfect formation. I descend to my back with a sigh,

Cradled by the worn cotton quilt and the cushioning grass.

My eyes flutter at the cloud, ever in motion amidst

The sky. And for some inexplicable reason, that 

Revelation eases my mind.