Lake Song - revised

[lucentwavering]

Draft 2

Grandma, give me your smile,
your love, say it will always last --
lies, of course; but still,
the sun is poised to dive
into the lake and we sit
rippling at the dock.
Home's a weekend we stole
from summer, back tripping
at tree roots -- Grandmother Willows;
back to the minutiae of moss
-- don't step on it; birchwood's
tender peeling. I've returned
to hold you circled in embraces,
a green carpet at your trunk
and slender trembling. Though the forest's
raw queer roar is calling
and life is everywhere at once,
for now I'm at your feet
begging that you'll smile: you do.


Draft 1

Grandma, give me your smile.
Grandma, give me your love, and say
it will always last - lies
of course; but still, the sun is poised
to dive into the lake
and we sit rippling at the dock.
Home’s a weekend we stole
from summer, back tripping at roots
of trees (of Grandmother
Willows) back to the minutiae
of moss - don’t step on it -
birchwood's tender peeling.
I’ve come back to hold you circled
in embraces, a green carpet
at your trunk and slender
trembling. Though the forest’s
raw queer roar is calling, though life
is everywhere at once,
for now, I’m at your feet begging
that you’ll smile. And you do.