A bright orange orb
Peeks through the trees
And shatters on the
Silent Adirondack lake
Then slowly metamorphoses
Into the bright white Nephew
Of the Sun –
Reflecting.
The night so quiet
Your ears ring –
The only sound
The scrape of canoe on sand
As it slides into the deep dark,
And the whisper of paddles
Lifting water
And setting it down.
I head toward Quicksilver –
That distant gauzy haze on the water.
I never reach it
Even though mist rises all around
The canoe
And blankets
The dark deep into
Downy softness.
Flickering stars and
The mountains’ reflection
Guide my oars
Until I head back to shore
Where my lantern glows
In silent vigil.

On an Adirondack lake