ripples by, her dress an aquatic pulse
of colour and submarine motion
her dress within the liquidity of glass reveals
its liquidity, magnified by each move she makes
she passes away from me and all I can do is chart
potential depths, shallows, hidden hazards, and imagine
who is she, what is she doing, where is she going
Peterborough Poets 
your poem is lovely. it’s written deeply yet doesn’t lose its lightness of bearing. thanks so much for sharing it with me today. tony
Thanks for taking the time to read it. I’m glad you liked it.