by Lauren Cooper
(1964 - 1999)
At the bottom of a lake lay a stone;
Gleaming, flashing, rainbow-hued, it shone.
Above it, between lake's surface and bed,
A forest, upturned and stood on its head;
Leaves a-quivering - planes in a watery sky -
Silvery green. The dewy
Tears of some disillusioned soul
filling a whole
Lake with reflection;
An insect disturbs the day
that's so drunkenly tipped on its head:
Busying and buzzing its way
It shatters the stillness, armed
With only a buzz and a wing ...
And a sting.
The water is tingling now,
Leaving only a sinister wish
To turn head around. Look behind
To see if some up-side-down fish
Has landed on earth in place of
The right-way-up trees that I love.