Epochs of Life
A lake is slumbering beneath a halcyon sky,
This land has no daybreak nor blackness vie.
Angst crusts float on their substrate surface,
Able and pallid, it defends an idyllic space.
Gray granite emerges from the dreary edge,
A half-light day adorns a barren field hedge.
The aimless times seem to last forever,
I am that bright poor fisherman together.
My boat and I sailed hastily over the lake,
Viewing the tones flow as if for the path's sake
I soothed and spread shade over the water,
A mild wave from the sea hauled it over.
When others stare at me, I get annoyed,
A stage of the ethereal, hazy sky was poised.
I shift my focus to the rocks around me,
You're defined like a rising sun's beauty.
My fragility and hunger are pelted by the tide,
Working very hard but never finding a stride.
Shine often skims over the placid water,
A light may be noted moving like a marauder.
Yet, there's no sun or hours, so the sky is murky,
I am that angler whose heart is still squirmy.
Written: August 07, 2022
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