The only sound I hear is my canoe’s
paddle
softly pushing back the lake,
a hush along the surface, broken
now,
and the lonely cry of a loon unseen
through the mist and fog that separates us.
Just some ramblings - a little poetry, some Creative Non-fiction, a picture of two - from Lake Hebron as I sit here on the front porch, staring across the water, listening to the loons, and enjoying the life of a retired English teacher. And please, leave me a comment, a note, tell me how much you loved -- or hated -- my writing, what it made you think of, made you feel, for it is poetry, meant to invoke in you what it is we share in common, what it is that makes us human.
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