My video camera ran,/
dancing with the lake’s waves/
and the sky’s reflections.
My fingers froze,
trying to hold lens steady,
silently breathing.
I’ve learned to be quiet,
to live with the pain
of stillness.
It was all worth it
to hear a lone loon
call the sunset goodbye.
It’s always worth the/
effort to wait it out as/
the sunset improves.
Man-made intrusions/
don’t ruin lake views when they/
promise summer fun.
Her comments about/
comparing our poetic/
talents begged questions.
There is little quite/
so strange as seeing snow on/
purple martins’ roofs.
The late-spring blizzard/
didn’t seem cold, but it still/
turned the lakeshore blue.
He wondered where she’d/
go for fresh lime gelato/
and baked pizza dough?
Just in my home state/
would I buy potted veggie/
plants in a blizzard.
I’m told: “Turn right”. I/
do, and learn that God knows I’m/
lost before I do.
My dad gave me a/
joyful high-five today:The/
martins’ scout found home.