The Lake House

The lake house floats on

shores with pearlescent shells; small

castles lurk below.

Ducks soar against white

clouds. I dream of holding the

swiftest in my hands.

A trout jumps to the

beat of the lake waves. I watch

it dance by the shore.

Jenny and I take

out grandpa’s sailboat and drift

into pale mountains.

I make baskets and

clay pots by the old lighthouse;

Blair makes shell earrings.

Dad rides a tractor

down the shoreline grinning. No

reeds greet him today.

Grandma wears her hat,

The one with funny red spots;

I sip my sun tea.

Cousin Michelle sings

a song about the Bear Lake

Monster. I join in.

Sister catches a

beach snake and holds it up to

see. She names it Steve.

Sparkling sunsets

refract against calm waters;

Grandpa hums a tune.

Marshmallows cook to

a caramel brown in grandma’s

stove. Drooling follows.

I catch golden fire-

flies in glass jars. As the moon

falls I set them free.

I sit facing an

amber fire with mother’s

fingers laced through mine.

The spirit of the

lake tells me ancient wisdoms;

I keep them within.

Days turn to years as

I embrace family and friends

under timeless skies.

Youth leaves too swift;

days of sparkling water

and warm smiles pass.

Today I still long

For the summers chasing dreams

that never took flight.