Muddy puddle,
Sits still a little to the left,
I see you clear as day,
And all your sharpest highlights and dullest reflections,
Yet are you truly holes and lightning?
Ephemeral as the fleeting moment,
Turning at the slightest inspection to something sharper than a blade,
And the untouched knowledge is left scattered on the wind,
Muddy water obscuring is itself obscured and its writhing lighting fields wrapped in a cloak of macro muddling.