Friday, December 30, 2011

Lakelse Lake


Softly, like an evening sighing
through a thousand small leaves,
a choir of sunset among mountains
began to sing,

voices rose like mist above the water,
a solo roman candle slowly fell earthward,
flowering upside down over the lake
in bright showers of tembre and color
reflections of wilted roses
glowing from deep in valleys
of cumulus clouds,

music seen, tasting tart and tangy,
avoiding thorns
in days final folding
savoring inwardly a musical phrase,
a muse of salty blood
upon a sunset shuttered tongue


The new morning, lightly raining,
keeping moss green, tending
cedars rich and burgeoning,
silences of mist
sailing  among ancient trees
huge with years and forest wisdom,

all night tiny foot-steps like blessings
danced upon my roof
to no applause,
I heard them,
no one could have known,
as if someone was praying,
and now a light rain

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