Fields lie buried beneath
this water, a shimmering expanse
a boat could pole across avoiding

only bare trees marooned above
the ripples and terns bobbing
like exotic bait to lure the unwary eye.

This same eye, seeing no fences,
leaps its usual confines and tacks
unfettered towards a shining sky

hanging low to meet the water
somewhere beyond the horizon.
But this flight is perilous, for suddenly

it is wriggling, hooked by a dilemma,
this beauty’s terrible truth.

Olivia Byard

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