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The Sixth Lake

Deep within the wooded thick of a coniferous forest's vascular limbs,
A chorus of loons cry in mosaic croons which echo from where they swim.

They swim in a lake, the sixth of eight; a link in a mountain chain,
Forged by the damming of rivers filled by the gathering of rain. 

As the birds' words wash across the polish of water sitting still,
Moonlight melts in speculum upon this lake of swallowed ichorous swills.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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Date: 11/6/2017 5:51:00 AM
The rhythm is flawless and I love the choice of words too.
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Date: 6/29/2017 10:58:00 AM
Not long enough, Brendan. This is very good. I could read this kind of poetry all day:)
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