I am the shimmered mirror image
of a lake reflection.
I am the fractured patterns
of increasing concentric circles
on a disturbed surface.

Superficially placid
I break into smithereens
of distorted images
when an intruder
vandalizes my soul
and only time
restores the tortured mosaics
to tranquillity.

The flying feet of a pond skater
use my molecular layer
to imprint my skin
and pressure me
no more than that.

I reflect on the dip of a dragonfly
with silkshine wings
and surrender to the gulp
of a gasping fish.

I see the golden eye of a frog
penetrate my protective layer
and I am troubled
as he looks to his future
and sees nothing.
A dying species
that warns the water sprites
of impending annihilation.

 Wriggled images move warily
along a ribboned streamer band
of distorted chevrons
as the picture surface shreds
to the song of a stream of
persistent missiles.

My reflection is a schizoid split
of multiple personalities
that sit in the long waiting room
anticipating fate.

A chemical calm falls
and a reverse movie motion
puts the pieces together again.

A cracked eggshell veneer
struggles to fake a make-over
and return to the universal whole.

A psychopathic stare
of no moral feeling
and diminished responsibility
which tells the frog –
ché sera sera, whatever will be – will be.
The death of the food chain
is an inevitability.