Oh I see you there, little reflection,
dancing in the sunlight
across the top of concentric spirals
like a pond skater practising
their Olympic routine.

You shine back to me, brighter
than my normal grays,
with glee and colour and
a statement of ability that
really does not hold water.

Yeah, I occasionally glance
at previous work, with raising
of eyebrows and whistling of teeth,
but that does not mean a truth
has been committed.

Checks and balances pulley
across, barrelling straight into
statements I stacked too high,
their structure ripe for riposte,
and they humble down.