Overheard at the Lake

The conversation carried around the lake,

as it does, clearly heard on a dark spring night;

perhaps they’re unaware of its reach,

or don’t care, a message meant to be heard,

announcing themselves, seasonal neighbors coming back.

It’s a dialogue of changing pitch, softly heard or screamed out,

one to another, echoing, an eerie warbling, mournful even,

a yodeled welcome to spring, and the summer months ahead:

as anticipated, the return of the loons to Hebron’s Lake.