There. . .
just beneath the surface,
swims a tiny shoal of fear.
I watch them
in the clear glass water.
They are moving as one,
darting this way and that.
Sunlight glinting on their agile bodies.
It is only when they break the mirror like surface,
causing a cascade of spreading ripples,
that I can feel them. . .
like an ice cold trickle of water
down my back bone.
© Susannah Bec 2011
This is the second post here today - please scroll down for - Not Lonely - Just alone. Thanks. x