The Maestro of the Lake

In silver grey raiment,

He looms,
Poised and pedantic,

Overseeing the adagio lakeness.

Thrashing in shallows 

Are former koi

Now dark, whiskered Pirates 

Bereft of their gold.

Percussive plop of turtles and frogs,

Launched sideways 

By twigs snapping.

Joyous melody of finch and fellows

Singing in their creation.

I

Stand in shadowed snail shallows

And am transfixed.

Drawn to heaven by

The transcending flight of hawk,

Lifted by the lake

But grounded 

Back to where I need to be.

Finale

The Maestro soars on wide wings

Cutting the sky like an arrow.

Photo: William the Coroner