Read Poems by
The lake is a tsimmes; boats, babies, and fish bob in white wakes.
Ah but, the sandy shoal, the small fish nest beneath and beside the docks.
The lens of lake divides but why chose when both are a joy?
Squeals of delight hang humid air steams the Sunday sunbathers.
Barbecues char hotdogs and burgers ladies strap-stripped, barelegged.
Coconut oil on skin or grilled meat wafts both are joyous smells.
Bob Marley on the breeze teens necking on the boulders, hot.
The roar of powerful engines or the driving pump of nubile hips.
Catch the colors, eye the scene you sit reading with a smile.
First Published in Pithy Pages For Erudite Readers Summer 2014