It's just poetry, it won't bite

The Reservoir


09.29.16 Posted in today's words by

James H. Duncan’s most recent poem to appear here was “Red Tulip” (February 2012) 

The Reservoir
By James H. Duncan

dawn blue water
where jagged pines bleed
mirror images
across sparkling ripples, mallards
shattered the skin, and motes
of summer hang
in the air

the scent of wet earth and mud

dreams or hallucinations?
seasons or lives ago?
            death?

I’m told among all the cynicism
and the harvest fairs and bombs falling
from the skies that the reservoir
remains as it always has
     hidden in the most open
of all sights, the life-long dharma
of innocent Now

my god, I hope it’s true
because nothing, nothing else seems
to be



One Response to “The Reservoir”

  1. I could smell the earth. Well done.