Triolet on Raindrops on the Surface of a Koi Pond

The question, rain is to fish as what is to us? 
bothers me. Is it as lightning, wind, bombs? Maybe it is like miracles,
or nightmares. Who can say what it is we live in? Please, discuss
the question—rain is to fish as what is to us—
and consider: though it may seem abstract and not worth the fuss,
we don’t know until we answer, in a way that’s at least plausible,
the question, “Rain is to fish as what is to us?”
what it is we swim through, and breathe in through unseen spiracles.

Heliocentrist

What, the world doesn’t revolve around me? 
says the world in disbelief,
and in that disbelief—which, retained,
is called ignorance—there is clearly
something true.
———————For overhead circles
the strong old sun, keeping a stiff watch
against the distant fire-ridden dark.

1. C. Scharl is a poet and critic. Her work has appeared in the New Ohio Review, American Journal of Poetry, Measure Review, Dappled Things, and many others. She lives in Colorado with her husband and two children.

Image: detail from Glittering Sea, Hiroshi Yoshida, 1926, woodblock color print on paper, Inland Sea Series

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