August, Vermont
The lake held
What nostalgia you had
Below the surface
It was blue in the distance
Wherein the mountains you dreamed
Was a clear black at your feet
And you stood clothed
Wanting to dive in
Submerged in water
That would fill your silence
With a pressure
To speak
Of what once was
In the ripples
Now empty gestures
The rain of days before
Blue in the distance
Of a clear sky
On a perfect day