The Lake

January 25, 2018
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A lake
Glassy calm with the rise of the sun
A white haze glowing orange as it rolls and rises
The depths awakening with the start of a new day
A loon whaling in the distance
Fish jumping for a morning meal

A small vessel
A fisherman casts out a line
Effortlessly glides across the silky surface

But followed by many more
More boats
More people
Homes being built on what was once undisturbed
Untouched by anyone but the animals that call it home
Roads made where the fawn use to graze

A lake
Glassy calm with the rise of the sun
But no loon howling to to start the day
No fish fighting for an early meal
People seen everywhere.
An eagle watches from above
Waves crashing against the shore
Waves crashing into the bog where the loon nest once lay.
Civilizations tentacles grabbing a hold of what was never to be found
Never stopping, but always expanding.

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