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The Farm

   Lake,
your icy fingers crash on my spirit
pulling me in
deeper than I
know how to go
I kiss your soft belly
as I am forever
washed away in you
I leave my impression
in your soft sand
and you hold it there
playfully tickling the edges
then erasing all
in one fell swoop
one mad rush in
I give you flat stone offerings
they skip across your skin
joyful as a child returning home
and you take them in
gizzard stones in your belly

Lake,
you hold my dreams
in your long curls
rolling the shared visions within you
you are broader than I can see
and deeper than I want to go,
still, you pull me to your depths,
holding me there
until I'm cold in you
you explode before me
exposing your jagged edges
thrusting your icy fingers through me
turning me around in you
spewing me on your shores
then laying me down
beneath your soft waters
smoothing my soul
Lake,
beat me with your waters
whip me with your tides
subtle and slow
chasing the moon's pull
wanting to be an ocean
reflecting every image before you
hot pink soft fire early morning sunrise
or
shimmering diamonds on black velvet
abyss of 2am darkness
I come into you
and you accept me
without question
lifting me on your
waves of joy
we ride each other
through the storms

Lake,
you do not tell of
your secret shipwrecks
so many crying on your shores
have caused you to rise
you hold my tears
in your body
you are full
from so much weeping
you do not easily
give up your dead

I am here for you now,
Lake,
take me to your belly
grind me with your stones
never let me go


For Lisa Hemminger
I wanted to hear you, but you would not speak.


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