Along a Lake

No one's on the lake's shore now. The sky
Is quickly going dark. The sun, almost in agony,
So far off, feeble, seems to scream in death.
It turns the clouds bright orange and pink
Before it falls away, a thoughtful corpse,
Self-burying. The air grows cooler quickly,
And the wind has started picking up. A distant
Choir of honking geese, unsure which way it
Ought to fly, is circling the now-black lake.
Perhaps they'll spend the evening here.
I ought to leave. I ought to have in mind
A place where I should be, but I'm a little
Like those geese: I don't know where to go.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 161 times
Written on 2018-12-16 at 00:16

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