Who is feeding here, beside the lake, bare of grasses,
stony ground, surrendered to thirst at golden dawn?
The lady at lake’s edge, washes no clothes, bares
no feet, lifts no arms, surrenders to the beholden dawn.
The child of the lake plunges into sand, bares to the bone,
chases ducks and surrenders to mom to awaken dawn.
The man of the lake offers his arm to the catch, bares
his blade, lifts his arms, surrenders to forsaken dawn.
The family of the lake, eats in silence, table now bare
offers silent thanks, surrenders peace since taken dawn.
Go we must, to find our own base self, bared before God,
surrendering to hunger, tested by the trodden dawn.
The lake is always waiting, reeds rising, fish swimming, bare
to visitors after dark, surrendering, soon a broaden dawn.