& hope that she'll pass near me, unsuspecting

i'll be waiting on this grassy bed to be with her

she tells about the fallen tree & years

I'm always forgetting before this wind

blows my face to tears

while lapping wavelets kiss the grass

& soil from the banks

the pond is running over

spring rains

I have no reason to explain

April

come she will

Poems by Randy Lake

May 1975