Oak Tree by the lake Photo

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Oak Tree by the lake Photo

Tree Song On The Water
 They teetered, happy on the brink.
But he rowed her across, singing
her a tree song, faint and fading
till they stepped out on a stone and waved
to us, symbolically.
Dizzy with wind-raked water, I sat
beneath a pine with a new grief.
A storm was blowing up like a rose.
A lady took me in to where the band
had begun again. I danced
unhappily to a worship tune
passing from aunt to aunt
like a recipe or new from home.
My father was the minister,
and he had left me there till four.
I had no watch. There were no clocks.
I looked toward the double doors.
The bride and groom burst in, the wind
and rain behind hem. Her tangled hair,
his rumpled shirt, almost untucked.
They had been running, Water wanted
to drown them, wind to strip from them
the mirror-work of calm love hummed.
For now, they'd won
by John Poch

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