lady of the lake

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**Lady of the Lake**

Yesterday, I wandered to the old golf course lake,  

chasing warmth in May’s uncertain breath.  

The hill was steeper than I recalled—  

legs unfamiliar with its slope,  

mind distracted by chattering geese  

who are rarely so bold.  

Perhaps love has found them, or unrest.

The path meandered, I followed—  

lost in bramble and breeze  

until the lake revealed itself,  

its surface pierced with sound and feather.  

Canada geese honked their displeasure,  

uneasy with a visitor  

on the cusp of their mirrored world.

Still, I slipped into the water—  

expecting the chill to greet me sharply.  

But it welcomed me like memory,  

cool but kind,  

free from fuss or flinch.  

They circled, ever watchful,  

their wild eyes unreadable.

Satisfied, I rose  

just as they returned—  

perhaps to reclaim their stillness.  

I left them to it.

And then,  

another commotion.  

At the lakeside, a woman—  

sun-kissed and unbothered—  

stepped into the scene  

as if the lake had always waited for her too.  

I’ve never seen another soul swim there.  

It was oddly comforting,  

to know the lake had shared itself again.

I think I’ll return soon,  

before the rains mend the sky closed.  

This warmth may linger.  

But even if the clouds press low,  

I’ll remember the geese,  

the hill,  

the unexpected company—  

and that the water can still surprise.

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