Ponds and Anagrams
The toads, in their green wax cerements
Oblique and lithe all day long in the heat
Raise their voices to stop the Torah’s gents
Arisen from day labor to write and meet
Hastily on these lily pads God rents.
The dragonflies, like colors prismed from compost,
Outsmart the dung and reptile obstructionists,
Rising to Torah’s round table when all seems lost,
Ankled, and gentile. They prepare sweet mists
Hardy pink blossoms, alerting Jehovah’s hosts.
Teach them Manet, or Pissarro’s blue patios,
Other their understanding of their pool,
Rise with them in involuntary ratios,
Arched archetypologies in toad shul,
Hallelujahing God in green patois.
— Jim Dolot