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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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