The Cabin

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