Across the Lake
When we
Looked out
Across the lake
Too late
I knew that it was wrong.
Nature
Is cruel.
She swayed like a bulrush.
Her eyes,
Deep-set and dark
With unfathomed currents,
Was fixed.
As each moment
More sacrifice
Was teased from
Brittle bones
To strengthen the
Rich, vital earth.
The ghost of beauty
Shone pale within her still.
But most
Had been given to the wind.
The reason,
With fragile hands,
She pulled the car door closed
And asked to leave.
