a house on a lake

A. Lee

there is a house on a lake,
barely seen through the trees,
surrounded by forest
with nothing to hear
but a blissful summer breeze.

it stands on a sturdy foundation,
but once was burnt to the ground,
rebuilt from the bottom
a museum of relics
a familial lost and found

it has bats underneath the shutters,
and never-not-flickering lights,
a gaming parlor
and colorful bedrooms
for dozing off to katydids at night.

it has screen doors we’re trained to close gently,
and all are secured by a latch,
as the south wind will blow
inevitably so
and doors may not slam but waves crash.

eventually the wind will settle,
and blue skies will open above,
and the house has no damage
but gone is our dancing
along shorelines we once loved

the beauty of a lake
as opposed to an ocean
is many don’t think of lakes
causing commotion
most lakes are thought of as tame and calm
it takes folks by surprise when they do something wrong.