Hapless Poetry 6

An angled scaffold
Rises from a lake,
Its pitch arced and
Straddled

Like a lotus in bloom
Before the dawn's grey light,
It reaches for its outstretched,
Sprawling arms

But nothing is there
Except the dawn's grey light:
A shadow on the face of an iris
In a moment of clarity--

A positioned aria
Between the eye and austerity.