Ultimate Autumn on Lake Hamilton

When it's ultimate autumn,
a fog bank moves on the lake,
early morning crows call as they emerge
from the grey-white stir, turn ebony overhead,
and wing toward the sunrise; when it's ultimate
and the lake lies like blue marble,
no longer laughs on the seawall,
tresses of cloud curl through shoreline trees
that hang and weep with dew; when it's ultimate,
and footprints on the lawn scuff like weary soldiers,
sometimes seen in circles, sometimes stopping,
stepping back, but down to the mere blue edge;
when it's ultimate and leaves go free
and mist there starts to rise,
an outline of a mirrored scene
forms on the other side.


(Remembering the Past, Poems by Roundtable Poets of Hot Springs, 1986)