The Lake at Night

Fishing was bad that evening,

Our glimmering lures failed to ensnare any prey.

So when the mosquitoes fell upon us in droves,

And the sun turned into a dull yellow ring on the ragged horizon,

We set out to explore the lake at night.

Amelia's peals of laughter rattled across the water,

Its surface a smooth slick of glass completely mirroring twilight,

Punctuated by the leaping ripple of fish,

The whale's tail of our wake,

And the glassy mulch my hand created

As it broke on the curiously warm surface.

Out on the middle of the water,

The distance between the shores stretched

Much farther than it ever could at day,

The pinpricks of dock lights dripping

Into rippling shafts of reflected light on the waves.

The wind pulled my arms past my shoulders,

And we soared over the sky that fallen onto Earth,

Calling out to the gathering dusk that encircled the lake at night.