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The Cabin

There is a cabin 
That sits on the shore 
Of an emerald lake,
Alive, with sun and swallows
Birds hum along with the children at play
Knee deep in warm water and soft sand
Catching lightning bugs at night
This sacred cabin is never dark
Because the moon reflects across the lake
And laughter lights up the night
In the morning the sky is the brightest blue
The trees cast laughing shadows 
That tickles children’s feet.
A dragonfly floats lazily by
And the deer bound through the grass
All is peace by this cabin on the lake
And everything is alive.


There is a cabin 
That sits on the shore
Of a black lake
The sun hides from view
And all is quiet and still
The water threatens to spill over the banks,
But has no one to drown.
The night is filled with an erie silent blackness
The children never play,
For there are no lightning bugs left to catch
Or children to catch them
In the morning, the sun threatens not to rise
Against the ashen sky
The only life is the steady whine of the cicada
And the deer avoid the decaying cabin at all costs
Something is very wrong here.
What has happened to this cabin on the lake
That was once so alive?
As it turns out, the most dangerous thing
Is the living

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