A Lake
The lake speeds past me,
The trees whisked into a blur,
Sun bouncing cautiously off the water,
Scared she may offend with her ever bright rays.
Skeletons of oyster beds,
Hovering above the surface,
Abandoned many years ago,
They float past with intergalactic grace.
A man stands on the pebbled shore,
Staring out - pondering perhaps,
The simple beauty contained,
In this long forgotten lake.
