Meadow Fish

The same way the sea has fashioned
Boats, the lake itself has fashioned
Our strokes. We swim as best we can,

But that's never the point of this
Exercise. What is was what won
But will have to lose in the end.

Even the green lake surrounded
By apparently stately clouds,
Calm as it could be in summer,

Meadow bright, reflecting wildflowers,
Was never a place that we were,
Only glass rhymes slowly turning.