I could stand and stare
at the lake,
this lake,
and get lost in her.
Paddled under on
the broken leg of a swan
to become the horn
that fallen to the bottom
as dirt, becomes a
mountain, rising upward
to protect her.
I bring the water in,
fresh and cool,
on the rivers.
Refreshing her and
feeding her every
second of her
beauty and depth.
I could stand
and stare at her
all my life -
and get lost.
No comments:
Post a Comment