Lakeshore: a poem

Lakeshore

On the lakeshore

An alabaster mask

Comes courtesy of the current

At the edge of the erosion

I catch a glance

A new scene

Just as fresh and fervent as the last

In a weathered stone face

I see the reflection of what warms us

And all of the god’s charisma

Etched in what is warmed

With the wind I sprint

Four steps at a time

My feet graffiti the dirt

With tracks of a bipedal legacy

Teetering on the edge of land

I see only a few different kinds of stone

But none with a face like mine.

Later I would meet the chocolate shaman

And drink coco from a satin cup

This is how most dreams end.