They seem so close
Easy to grab
I reach down
Wrist, elbow slipping
Into the cool water
Almost to my shoulder
I reach deep
For the golden fish
Quicksilver cold
Mercurial fragments
Figments
Of my mind pool
The small fall
Of my tears
Ripples the surface
But those slivers
Those erratic beautiful golden
Slivers
Stay in the quiet depths
Just out of reach