The Last Time we Visited the Lake


An old poem I never published; after watching txf episode “mind’s eye”

When we reached the edge of the water
When we reached the edge of the pool
When the clams reached out to pinch my toes
And I think I was thinking of you

I could hear the false note in your consoling voice
The kind of thing you could sense with the sound turned off.
You’d be an angel but your face didn’t match up,
It was feigned, and terribly cold.

I was sure I was dreaming that morning,
Watching you by the dock near the pool
Facing the shoreline of water,
Piled neatly against the blue.

There you stood,
A magician of frugality
Trying to regain your composure,
Looking at me with disappointment
But the fragile, fragrant air was tripping up your movements,
And you paused,
To close your eyes
And erase
All else,
Smelling deeply,

When reached the edge of the water
You said
“This is the place”

I heard the false notes in your voice again, as you released
Sweet smelling words out into the air, to savor
But it was only just for show;
Just to admire their grace

You smiled a meager smile and looked to the water again,
As the boats heaved and creaked in their wooden cages.
We stood together, silent.
I was sure you were feeling some kind of secondhand pity,
But it was usually just a feeling.

Copyright 2016 Golden Star Poetry

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