Like the surface of an old mirror
Where gravity has slowly pulled on the glass
So that it sags in some places,
Distorting the reflection of its gazer,
The woods surrounding the lake--
Birch trees, white and red pines--
And white and gray clouds overhead
Are reflected on the lake's surface.
All seems to be at peace.
I can ignore the sounds of
Traffic on the nearby county road
And the conversations taking place
By adults up the hill in the cabin,
But it is hard to disregard
The cawing crows perched in tall red pines
Across the bay or the
Occasional "plop" from a falling acorn
Or the rarer haunting cry of a loon
Or fish splashing in the shallows--
Probably a minnow trying to
Escape the jaws of a blue gill.
Written 9 August, 2013
at Lake Arbutus near Eagle River, Wisconsin