Lake Livin' is the Life for Me

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Lonely Lake
by Joyce Kennedy

It was the name given it on our hiking map. Intrigued,
we followed a narrow, rising trail flecked with autumn,
aspen leaves beneath our feet, young trees leaning across
as if to guard the integrity of loneliness. At the end,
we found the lake, small jewel shining in space, not
obviously frequented, although there was a rickety
dock and on it, a battered rowboat and dented canoe.
No paddles. We sat, one in rowboat, one in canoe,
the loneliness of the lake pared down to bare essentials—
shore lined with thick, dark pine, intense and cloudless sky,
sun flaring on water's changing surface. A hawk dipped
down to startle the peace while two ducks rode the ripples
unperturbed. Stunned by beauty, we reached across—
boat to canoe, canoe to boat—to touch hands,
our own lonely selves connecting as lightly and effortlessly
as the dragonfly wing that earlier brushed against my face.

Comments

  1. OwenOctober 11, 2009 at 6:10 PM

    To set out in a dented canoe, across a lonely lake... what more could one ask ?

    ReplyDelete
  2. SharonOctober 12, 2009 at 6:20 AM

    "...to guard the integrity of loneliness..." Magic!

    ReplyDelete
  3. ReneeOctober 13, 2009 at 11:10 AM

    How very beautiful.

    Renee xoxo

    ReplyDelete

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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