The Immortal Lake: parts one and two

Posted by ractrose on 8 May 2018 in Art, Poems

The Immortal Lake: parts one and two



The Immortal Lake (part one)


Now rose like the deadly rhythm of its prose

So many letters

Sugar in the bowels of flying ants

The bartering itself was such an effort

Ceaseless work performed to ceaseless song

The overseer’s voice coming on

The knocking and the pattern carved on trees

He, but for his flash of wings, has no other plea

The jarring of the diamondback

The jarring of the chuck-wills-widow

Blood suckers lay themselves so thick

The cloak of them is like the shade

He finds only her dog lying stoic

In a pool of water to its neck

And a tarp nailed across the window

A crate nestled on a hammock

Wood too soft to bear the weight

She no longer keeps the place

He had never seen the living bird

May be wind inspired

The ghost, the numen

Raised to flout the guns in condemnation

The crate is filled with moss and topped

With sticky paper

Topped with flies

He would try the immortal lake

Listen for a plaint that the mockingbird recalls

He can sing the whooshing of the pump

And the motor of the chain saw




The Immortal Lake: parts one and two



The Immortal Lake (part two)


Gleam of omen on the flat tar lake at sunset

An ice-white sunset without a cloud

That throws the shore’s reflections black

And cold, the sparking furnace of earth’s end

Rippled by the same thin wind

Juxtaposed and never joined, the craft

Emerges from the brown stream’s bend

The hunter’s scalp combed as he crouches low

Under overhanging limbs


His guide in skins of belly-fur, soft buff

She wears a mask of spotted lynx and thus

Is god-in-flesh and bears the lynx’s power

Round her neck are feathered crests

His envying eye

Doubts they have not all been taken

All the sires of generations

He would have guessed the night must fall too soon

The autumn’s span of hours never warm the nest

…and yet

Perhaps in resin trapped these trunks hold heat

Like insulating glass


Each the saga of his kindred many ancestors in voice

Of rushing water sang a thousand-fold where once the river fell

A roiling pool under hemlock, elders tell

How fishers breathed the misted air

A lifespan of one hundred years was common

In that day

Along the river way a line

Of dying cypress fed the straggling migrants

Who sought the spreading valley that was forest

But the sandstone bluff exposes cattle, fence

And meadow, whirring turbines and a hemisphere of





The Immortal Lake: parts one and twoSee more on My Curious Reading page







(copyright 2016 Stephanie Foster)



Mystery Plays

mystery plays cover with dust mite




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