Мэй Свенсон. Картина на воде

Water Picture 

In the pond in the park
all things are doubled:
Long buildings hang and
wriggle gently. Chimneys 
are bent legs bouncing 
on clouds below. A flag
wags like a fish hook 
down there in the sky.

The arched stone bridge 
is an eye,  with ubderlid 
in the water. In its lens
dip crinkled heads with hats
that don't fall off. Dogs go by,
barking on their hacks.
A baby, taken to feed the 
ducks, dangles upside-down, 
a pink balloon for a buoy. 

Treetops deploy a haze of
cherry bloom for roots, 
where birds coast belly-up
in the glass bowl of a hill;
from its bottom a bunch 
of peanut-munching children 
is suspended by their 
sneakers, waveringly. 

A swan, with twin necks 
forming the figure 3,
steers between two dimpled 
towers doubled. Fondly 
hissing, she kisses herself, 
and all the scene is troubled:
water windows splinter, 
tree-limbs tangle, the bridge
folds like a fan.