A Kettle Pond and Lake
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On rounding a bend in the road,
I caught a foul whiff of Lost Lake.
For it's mostly a putrid pond,
that now lives up to its namesake.
Shrunk into a slimy green scum,
this lake sure doesn't look like one.
And it is giving off a stench,
that sends most critters on the run.
I found a rotted-out cabin,
years of ice and snow made it so.
And on a rusty iron stove,
a shinning kettle all aglow.
I swear that shook me up awhile,
till I realized 'twas the sun.
And not some mystical spooky
ghost out to have himself some fun.
The lake's now choked and overgrown,
but there's no need to interfere.
For soon, no one will even know
that there was ever a lake here.
(Quatrain)
2/10/2018
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018
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