I hear the boats coming in
summer days closing down
recalling night on the water:
beautiful as day might be
the mystery of a lake after dark
rivals all.
Years ago, my pipe
smoke mixed with words
between my brother and I
as we gazed at lights across
some undulating expanse;
we saw villages, hillside cities
cast down in morning light
but then, in the dark: beauty
and intrigue on the shore.
Sometimes it’s best not to know
every thing: to see the world
not nude, but clothed in dark.
June 2019
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