Posted in 2017, poetry, Writing

The Misty Lake

A hot mist flows over the top of the lake.

Though it is winter the water starts to boil.

People freeze when they see the ice on the surface

quickly melt away into nothing.

They are frightened of what it must mean.

 

Another nearby lake is still frozen over.

People skate on its calm, solid surface;

smiling as they pass a puck around with sticks.

The people from the first lake flock to this one

because this lake they can explain.

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