On the roadside beneath the mountains,
a stagnant pool in a
ditch, starry green
with algal
profusion, dark as profound
thoughts, almost
unseen in its humility,
was a Lilliputian’s
Loch Lomond or
Loch Ness with
unimaginable life-forms;
it stole the prize
for the day’s most beautiful,
like a sliver stolen
from Monet’s garden.
