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An Eerie Cry
On the frigid metal dock, the golden morning sunlight shone through our eyes.
Feet suspended atop the crystal water, we admired the inauguration of a new day.
My sister's toes, swaying with the beat of the early day gusts,
As we noted the new bare footsteps thumping near to join us.
"Look north"
"You see the head?" spoke the drowsy, early-morning voice
Peering out past the walls of the cove, a slight shadowy head popped up, establishing a ripple on the waxlike lake.
The loons eerie cry echoing like a pinball through the valley,
Enclosed by the towering frosty peaks.

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