Fool's Gold

In a slow unfolding, 
the stamen uncurls to look over the petal lip 
at water lapping in the pools.    

Perfume rises softly in the darkness, 
the water widens in the mind and stretches 
to an edge unseen - the green buds swell and sway, 

fat and ready, the pollen a gold corona 
and gently scented 
to welcome strangers in.    

Dip the paddle and steer 
the dark to reach soft arms and green, 
the dark quiet sward of dreams.
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