The Lake

Dawn, asleep at this hour Chilled air is a gift in the grip of summer Landscape’s fresh silence Moon, half blind The traveling breeze is a caravan ‘Come, naked and shivering, says Lake, dig through the mud for that which is Truth, where the moon inters her light, where bullfrogs bark in circles’ The water Lover, formless womb ovulated by sunrise I set the canoe in motion Orange dragonflies, murmuring duckbills fist-sized tadpoles, radiant finch gesticulate above and beneath surface Green reeds are light tendrils Sky’s blue inks a mallard’s back A raven’s croak is more alive than most people Mist drops while rising The canoe glides water laps, gasps The poised presence of an osprey circling Everything silences, stills except for the canoe over the Lake’s belly The sun, pinned to the tip of a redwood reflects like an eye in chrome I lie back and float, a water blossom’s thirst ---------------------------------------- From my sixth book-length ms. ©dah / dahlusion 2014 / 2015 all rights reserved “The Lake” was first published in ‘Black Market Re-View' (U.K.)