Echoes - Poem by Charlotte Ballard
I watch as a slim
Young man, dressed in
Tweeds and patches on the
Elbows, squats down with a handful of
Pebbles and tosses them
One by one into a gray pond.
The ripples blend, wheel within wheel
By the others.
The sun blazes orange
Off his eyes when
Trembling, I cannot
Did I just see God?
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