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