Hi everyone,
I’m reading through a book of mine published in 2011, the only one I’ve ever published on Amazon. It’s called GOOSE LAKE, A Year in the Life of a Lake and was the result of many years of living near the lake and observing its moods and cycles. The book was illustrated just right by SLADJANA VASIC. If you want a copy, it’ll cost you a buck ninety-nine for a Kindle Edition.
Each spread has a prose element followed by a poem. This poem is called “Fog on the Water.”
Fog on the Water This morning Goose Lake holds a cloud on her lap white and thick as a down comforter. Pity a Mallard lost on the water surrounded by Canadians -- a tug boat bobbing blindly among freighters. In an hour the fog will vanish. Like a magic trick its mist will freeze on trees, flashing diamonds on every bony finger, but now Goose Lake is a mystery lady covering her secrets in a white wrap. Yard lights on the far bank wink like fireflies probing the fog for safe passage. My hackberry trees raise leafless arms, prisoners surrendering to an invisible foe. Somewhere a duck without a body. quacks to itself a lone note that stirs no interest. Mornings like this, Goose Lake avoids company. Her pulse slows. Little moves or mutters.
Here’s the introduction. To those of you are familiar with my love affair with the lake behind our house that I dubbed “Goose Lake” many years ago (it has no official name that I know of), this will come as no surprise.
When we moved here in 1989, we were not welcome. As I stooped in the driveway for my first morning paper, a delegation of geese hissing like punctured tires flat-footed it toward me across the grass. This was not a social call. My new house squatting on their land beside their lake was an outrage.
Children's Author David L. Harrison's Blog 