Stagnant

Bitter water,
so easily disturbed
by the slightest trickle
of wind
rolling
from the cool front
of late summer,
sits calmly.

The last
of the mosquito eggs
have hatched-
leaving behind,
in the small pond,
a foam of transparent casing.
This decays,
shells of origin,
descend
into the murky sediment
of aged water.

Sour refreshment
to the passing inhabitants
of the abundantly sweet forest.
The last of the
summer berries
fall from their bushes
and fragrance the pond.

Change
comes to this still
encampment.
Spring wishes
and summer crushes
evaporate
in the rays of the August sun,
but still
stays the water.
It has no where to rush,
and no mind
for worry to hurry
over its
perpendicular
and cockeyed existence.