Charlotte Ballard - Echoes

I watch as a slim
Young man, dressed in
Tweeds and patches on the
Elbows, squats down with a handful of
Pebbles and tosses them
One by one into a gray pond.
The ripples blend, wheel within wheel
By the others.
The sun blazes orange
Off his eyes when
He turns.
Trembling, I cannot
Speak.

Did I just see God?

Charlotte Ballard

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/echoes-20/