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.)
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