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on the lake side of the street

For today’s prompt, pick a direction, make that the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. There are so many directions: north, south, up, down, left, right, over, under, etc. But there are also more specific directions like “Across the Way,” “Through the Woods,” and “Beyond the Clearing.” Or give directions like “Clean Your Room,” “Tie Your Shoes,” or “Get Over Here.” — Robert Lee Brewer, Writer’s Digest

On the lake side 

On the lake side of the street
is a little cottage 
where 13 years so far
of our family history have played out 
Following 30 years of another family’s,
and another
Going back to 1948
A retreat, a refuge, for each in turn

You can park your car on the other side
You can go down through to the stone patio
and sit and watch the water
You can imagine whose feet have
walked the hardwood floors
— who laid them board by board
sweat and dirt
building out a vision —
who else has watched the quiet lake

What dreams they dreamed
as it flowed, 
both tide and time

Whose heart has broken 
— and ached 
and begun to heal
to beat again, even vibrantly,
though it would never be the same —
in the span of those seven decades

Of life
on the lake side

tags: aprpad, poetry, lake, loss, heartbreak, healing, retreat, refuge
Saturday 04.27.19
Posted by Susan Ward
 

the way i see it

For today’s prompt, write a view poem. Wherever you’re at, you have a view: maybe of a river or sunset. Maybe of a cubicle or a copy machine. Even the blind have a view of darkness, nothingness, or some other -ness. And that’s just being literal, because everyone has views on sports, politics, poetry, etc. — Robert Lee Brewer, Writer's Digest

Harbingers

IMG_0320.JPG

Lake
pitted by raindrops
that also fall, pattering,
on the tin roof

Birds call
and flit by
robins, crows, cardinals
other unseen songbirds

Still-bare trees
almost shimmer
with the verdant haze
of leaves about to burst forth

The rain falls faster
reflections of light like static
across the surface of the water
ripples, circles

A mallard soars past
audible rush of wind and feathers
to make a noisy splashdown
quack, and preen

Now he swims by
all majestic iridescence topside
and busy orange feet underneath
V-shaped wake trailing him, a royal cape

The rain cloud passes,
sun emerges
everything above reflected below

A view I will love all of my life
that I long for when I am away
How this place soothes my soul
All is well, you’ll be well, be still and listen.

tags: aprpad, poetry, lake, rain, nature, birds, mallard duck
Saturday 04.13.19
Posted by Susan Ward