Lake All Be Gone

Lake All-be-gone!



The postage stamp
beach is empty now
no male, nor females
stretching lazily
under large
umbrella hats
where kids once
were browned by
the sun while
hot dogging on
inflated rafts
only sand remains
ingrained in
old bare footprints
the water is quiet
the last splash
rippled in concretic
circles many days ago
as the final
pair of ten
toes went ashore
all is so calm
that it renders it
into a sheet of glass
with blue pains
reflecting the
sadness of another
Summer's end
I drive by
windows down
and see the vacant
paradise that sits idle
longing for the squeals
and the tumbles
and the essence of life
mixed with laughter
in its liquid bowl
soon it will be ice
and the skaters will
figure out eights on it
and couples hand in hand
with steamy breath
and dreamy eyes
will kiss above it
while summer band-aids,
Jimmy's lost trunks,
and a couple of sand pails
will share the ghosts
of a long hibernation
beneath the ice

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