Lake Burley Griffin

Leaves have a golden coating,
as if dipped in honey.
Some burnt by the sun before
it disappeared with summer.
A few remain green, late bloomers
or evergreens.
The red ones have fallen,
too hot to remain.
The pavement a crimson carpet,
feet sink in.
Crunching sounds everywhere,
a thousand apples being bitten.

Neck of purest white,
exception: a cluster of black speckles,
like paint, flicked.
Small head is brown, tie-dye feathers.
Beady eyes, like glistening jewels
holding the water’s image.
Pink feet, webbed, worn,
clawed and cracked.
Waddle to the edge and dive,
with a plop you
try to catch the reflection of
the sun.
Your charcoal black beak opens:
quack.

Blue sky bleeds
into blue lake.
Water ripples and ripples with
small boats and large sails.
The fountain is the focus
of the circle lake -
a manmade geyser.
Water rises higher and higher still
spraying
until
like a diver, it twists,
taking the plunge, down again,
splashing like rain.
Sunlight refracts,
and each water drop
becomes a small rainbow.

- 2010