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.




I love the description and the revelation. I know this place holds a special place in your heart. ❤️