OPTIONAL POETRY

Late late morning a ripple on the lake a standing wave or complicated wake two lizards sunning themselves and not much else to say, calm and soft here, East of the mountains I watch descents: parasails, quails the crescent day moon the onerous ray of sun and spare a thought for yours: did your crampons bite? did the pack give way? Alone in the shade of static, fixed hills, I wonder, and wait.