Life On A B-I7

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Journal Entry - Sunday, February 25, 2024

The Lake

The lake is a strand of dark blue
Surrounded by a ribbon of green marsh grass.
Ducks fly in low, landing in sequence,
They form a line paddling to the opposite bank,
Their purpose unknown.

How long has this rock I am sitting on
Been waiting here for me?
Certainly, since before I was born.
It seems likely to be here
Long after I am gone.

I picture this rock having been placed here
By the cataclysmic uplift that created these mountains,
Or perhaps it broke away from the peak above
like a disobedient child, tumbling and churning
Until it came to rest here, where I to sit.

I don’t want to leave this spot.
It makes me think of places far away,
Sights more beautiful than I can imagine,
Destinations I have yet to experience…
But I think, being here is enough.

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