My Last Moments at the Lake . . .

Standing, gazing,
trying to take in
the lakes beauty,
one last time.

The autumn wind blows,
cold and crisp,
chilling me enough
to put on gloves.

A loon dives
deep in the bay
where the dock used to sit,
natures way of saying, Goodbye.

I stood alone, a special moment,
just me and the lake,
not a sound could be heard,
remembering.

Red, brown, orange foliage,
the vistas of fall, fill
my senses, as I stare
across the bay, wondering.

Soon the bay
would be covered
with ice and
I would not see it.

Where has the time gone,
would I ever be so happy
as I was at the lake,
life can be so very cruel.

With Spring, the ice would thaw,
the wild life
would return and
I would not see it.

The others say Goodbye
in their own special way,
some get angry, some take a
walk or even a boat ride.

I enter the van,
pulling away from the lake,
a tear runs down my cheek, for
the lake is gone, forever.

By Dan Hanosh
Warriors and Wars


http://www.poemhunter.com/dan-hanosh/


Tags: Poetry The Brave the few



http://www.poemhunter.com/dan-hanosh/