The Lake Front

Like the pumpkin
Large and round
The moon shines on the lake
The weeping willow
Softly touches the water
With its green hands
Letting the lake make circles
From each finger that falls
A finger
That falls from a different tree
Floats like a boat
On that lake

On that lake
Where the moon shines bright
Where the couples of mice
Sit
While the birds take flight
To the evening dance
Down by the tree
With its green hands
Touching the water
On that lake

On that lake
Where the leaves
Fall
And float
Like dinghy’s
Sailing over the pond
As if flying
Skimming the very surface
Making ripples
All the way around
Until they drown
Then there are no more ripples
Until the leaf
Moves again
On that lake

On that lake
Where each finger
Of trees sit
Resting upon the smooth surface
So that when the wind blows
There are circles and circle
And the hand dips in and out
Bobbing like a duck
On that lake

On that lake
Where the mother ducks
Lead their babies in
To a cove
With no disturbance
To lie in the soft reeds all night
And be hidden
From evil spirits
On that lake

On that lake
Where everything is peaceful
Where no one lives
In hateful solitude
Where everyone can sleep
Without worry
We should take this as an example
Not as a place we can destroy
Not a place where we can build
More places to worry in
On that lake.