EMBRACE OF ELENA(2)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
FOR BRUCEK WHO IS WORRIED I MAY NEVER WRITE AGAIN
Mind you this is "old" Bruce so I'm not sure if it counts.

Submitted: October 25, 2012

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Submitted: October 25, 2012

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From the top of the hill I admire her

nestled,

amidst a tall, dark circle

of part native, part introduced forest

serene and replete after our unusually wet summer

her water mirrors a luminous clouded sky

Lake Elena beckons...

I hurry on down

*

Forget the man made path

and seats dotted around her perimeter

the trendy eating house the other side of the water

listen instead

to the soothing swish of billowing trees

the surprising muted creak of huge age-old trunks

(I marvel at the twisted wood maze

encasing those trunks

set like stalagmites in caves

grander than any man made sculpture)

echoing bird calls en masse,

happy honk of ducks

constant lapping of waves

at the water’s edge

*

rivulets trickle from the hills

in glorious random abstraction

bowed drifting branches

graceful lace leaves

tumble in and rise out

of the grey-blue lake

black swans bob elegant necks

ride for free

on their fast moving playground

*

Walk on the uneven gravel pathway

- watch my feet -

step over gnarled roots

debris flung haphazardly

from yesterday’s storm

smell the damp freshness

drown myself in that scent,

the sight,

the sounds,

sparkling summer’s breeze on my face...

I am no longer an observer

*

Try to forget too...

underneath her shimmering veneer...

her calming,

bewitching,

coolness and allure...

Elena hoards secrets

cold, whirling currents

mothers who will never again visit

tugged here only in nightmares

tears and deepness intermingled

where the wind hoots

and the wintry water aches

*

The neat green painted seat under me,

unyielding and silent

I shiver

draped in the dark silver Lake Elena valley

eye off Mama duck who is observing me

with wary, beady, black eye

as she tends to her baby

 


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