The pond does not move
and that is the danger.
Beneath the surface,
roots are negotiating territory,
algae rehearses takeover,
insects write brief manifestos
with their legs.
Stillness is not peace.
It is a gathering.
The myth lied when it said
chaos came after.
Chaos was the water
before it learned the word sky.
I kneel at the edge
and feel the pull
of something unfinished.
If I fall in,
it will not be an accident.
It will be an answer.
May Garner is an author and poet residing in rural Ohio. She has been writing for nearly fifteen years and has been sharing her writing online for over a decade. She is the author of two poetry collections, Withered Rising (2023) and Melancholic Muse (2025). Her work has appeared in Querencia Press, Cozy Ink Press, Arcana Poetry Press, Livina Press, Speckled Trout Review, among others. Find her work on Instagram (@crimson.hands).
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