Lake Song - revised

[Clandestine]

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 <---This is a bit rough. Feels choppy
of moss - don’t step on it
birch-wood's tender peeling. <--- One word
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 <--Choppy again. But good effort.
is everywhere at once,
for now, I’m at your feet begging
that you’ll smile. And you do.