Beneath the icy pond outside my window
Are eight half-frozen goldfish
Lying in formation, prepared to swim,
One is pale and speckled,
The other seven are carmine,
And all are glorious and held still in time.
Within my window is an Amaryllis,
its tall leafless single stalk
Kept forging toward Heaven,
Finally stopping to prepare to bloom.
All the glorious carmine buds
Are paused before their explosion in
time.
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