Slivers of bleached light settle
on ochre dusted water
The sun’s kind influence offering life
Rustle of ground cover, a burble, small bubbles
In the marsh words fall away
Beyond cattails where minnows hide
Secluded on a saucer raft
Untouched, just out of reach
A solitary flower blooms from tangled roots
Forbidding it to drift elsewhere
Expertly camouflaged in dimness
Bound to the sun’s governing light
Fragrant early morning riser
Recasts into sheer wonder
Ranks of spiral fronds fan out
Drizzled with stains of ruptured magenta
Monet’s muse blushing powder pink
Tapered petals frayed like worn paper
Little corsage afloat in the mire
Wishes going nowhere
Conjures a scent that charms
Unfurled, lays bare a burst of yellow
Exquisite embellishment of life
Diligent sun tips its cap casting shadows
Satin winged spiral compliantly folds
Cocoon of impenetrable pink solitude
Dreams of being adrift on silver currents
Susan Dashiell
Susan Dashiell is an ESL teacher living in Bloomfield, NJ who enjoys writing and collaging during quiet moments. Her work has appeared in The Valley Review, Write Launch Literary Magazine and Burnt Pine Magazine to name a few.