Lake Vespers

Tonight I

Tucked down to the lake

For a cool swim

In the very last dregs of day.

Slipping down to the shore

A fine sheen of shifting indigo and silver is

The only way to tell where land ends and water begins.

Blind, groping my way,

Trusting the softness of the lake

I am cradled by a horizon of silhouettes – fir, cedar, distant hill

A blanket of spreading velvet under the banquet that is the sky.

Moon half a peach with puffs of cloud encircling

and Mars, dull iron, throbbing beneath.

To the west the clouds wheel and stack

in an amphitheatre of indigo

The day’s last chugging puffs

lit

against the amber embers of sun.

O Sun!

You burned so bright – we all did – today, in the blazing eye of summer!

Me, skin aglow like a persimmon

Hiss like a sauna stone as the lake takes me in.

My body dissolves, subsumed by soft, silken Cusheon

All my urges and frantic makings

Extinguished.

Flecks of stars flash across the sky

Raised not by heat, but by the cool of night…

Goosebumps.

As I swim,

The bands of reflected moonlight break apart in my hands,

carving ripples like the inky grooves

On a vinyl record.

Teeming moths: so many moths

You can’t see them until you nearly swallow them

thousands of flying things, frolicking furiously between lake and sky

In a great mess of swirling twisting bodies all feasting

In a wild moonlit revel that must come humming to life

Every night – when

Our motors, our labours, our breakneck attention

Sputters to a slow.

An interloper on these devotions,

I come to shore, wrap up and go

To bed…

Echoes of microcosmic vespers

dancing

In my head.