Lake in the Woods

 

 

I like to hear a motorboat

With voices pitched above it,

Conversing in their private din

And quite unconscious of it.

I like to see a fishing boat

Slowly row past shore,

Preoccupied with soundlessness

And fish, and nothing more.

When other boats are dim

In darkness on the lake,

I love to watch the sailing moon

Leave her silver wake.