February 2021

The Lake

February 12, 2021by DyAnne Korda

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I bring her a strand of my auburn hair

and tuck it in a seam of wintery shore.

The Lake swallows

adjusting her grand sleeping body.

Her violet breath flows

beneath bergs of crystalline clouds

whose icy edges rub trickling water

and chime like tiny Buddhist bells.

My wet boots inch closer

across mounds of translucent coins

as I recover her old swirling language.

She is singing my name.