#122 Kevin Brophy 'Lake'

#122 ‘Lake’

The lake is blue. Blue lies like a lake

on the earth. The earth is red. Red soaks

into the sand and rocks like a breath held.

The grass stands up in wiry stems all the way

to the blue lake, its white shores all around it.

Everyone mentions the lake once or twice a day.

It is a blue shadow on the mind. No one’s thirst

can be quenched there. The old salty tongue of the earth

is in it. Always the sun is looking down into it.

The lake let its surface flutter when breezes come.

That small whisper it makes along its edges

leaves a slim rime where a creature

might come to find the salt of its blue dream.

The red colour reddens as the day goes away.

Someone nearby closes a door after having a smoke.

The earth holds the day’s heat to its heart, lying low

like a child lying down on the floor beside a mother

who talks quietly of the lake and the last time they were there.