Be Longing

a poem from today's Story Exploratory workshop

I thought I wanted to be the lake

With its piscean poetry of light and water.

The lake that froze and thawed,

That devoured towels and sunglasses

It’s mucky waters concealing barbed wire

And imaginary hippopotami.

I was never the lake.

I was the stone and concrete steps,

Permanent and official.

Almost the sand. Almost the water.

A place of impatience and waiting

A place of being and longing

eternal and unchanging.

For my friends who remember Hastings Lake.