The end of June and water skippers

These long days are an invitation to sit by a pond and contemplate nature. In my pond there is a city on legs, and here is a poem on those thoughts.
 
 
Rings upon rings
 
as if a torrent of rain
wants to drown this pond.
 
—Get close and see.
 
These ripples, not of rain,
but water skippers!
 
A city on legs
balanced on the skin of water.
 
In a game, or maybe a war,
of meet and retreat.
 
The smaller ones race
for a brief connection,
 
in a second secrets are shared
new circles inflate, shimmer
 
and fracture the calm
of a cloudy day
 
distort the mirror of trees
a vibration of braches
 
making the summer dance,
this is the hallucinogenic power
 
of waking on water.