Poetry

My spot had all but disappeared this morning due to the fog cover over the lake. It was like walking into a cloud; I could barely see twenty feet into the lake before the water and air blended together into an indistinct haze.

Fog over Lake Champlain

Looking to the right

Looking to the left

The fog gave an other-worldly, almost prehistoric feel to my spot. I almost expected to see a dinosaur charging out of the mist.

The lake wasn't the only feature in the usual landscape of my place that was missing. I was shocked to see that the beach had also all but disappeared. The water has been rising for weeks, ever since all the snow started to melt, but I guess I wasn't expecting the lake to get so high. In fact, it seems that this increase in level is abnormal, I've heard people commenting that the lake hasn't been this high in a long time. Even last year, I remember going to North Beach only a little bit after this date there being plenty of sand. Right now, I don't see the water level falling quickly enough to be going to the beach any time soon. The little bit of beach that is left is almost completely covered by driftwood; huge logs and branches.

This missing beach is what inspired my poem that we were supposed to write for this week.

The Rise

Where is the beach?

It is gone. 

Covered in lake,

And wood

Drifted in from far shores. 

Where is the beach?

Birds skitter 

Through the mess,

And call

In the silence. 

Where are you beach?

Come back. 

Soon it will be time to swim

And laze

In the sun. 

Come back beach. 

For now, you are gone.