the Lake

I  
 
Alone in the lake,  
away from the strangers  
is where the waters’ breath would tickle  
her ears, filling and emptying as she swam  
to escape the winds’ prodding fingers – cold  
from travelling constantly.  
 
II  
 
At the far side of the lake,  
where the woody skeletons stood jagged  
and naked as victims of the water,  
she laid her egg in the grass:  
it welcomed the unborn infant into  
its family like a visiting cousin.  
 
III  
 
The next morning brought rain with it:  
a curtain fogging her view of the strangers  
approaching over the water  
with their weapons,  
pushing the lake away so they could move  
closer; wings raised in protest, she screamed  
at them as they reached her.  
 
IV  
 
The lake offered shelter,  
swelling as it drank the rain –  
she hid from the strangers beneath it  
as they took her egg in their hands  
not realizing that it was wet;  
none of them heard her cry out  
when her unborn infant slipped  
from their hands       cracked    
and spilled into the lake.  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
©Shelley Marie