The lake awakens
before dawn.
Honking geese land on sheets of glass
breaking the tension of the morning calm.
A buck rummages for wild blackberries
as I walk the ancient asphalt thread
rimming the water.
The lake awakens
my memory.
Muffled conversations outside the tent
protect us from the forest.
Smoke trickles from the embers
of last night’s fire.
The chill of a mountain morning is melted by
the rising sun,
a tin cup in hand,
and the loving “How’d you sleep?”
The lake awakens
my heart.
The long buried memory
of my mother
in the black inner tube
buoyed by the eternal cove.
She smiles widely
inviting me to share
the latest news of my young life.
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