Dear Quaker Lake,
I haven’t swam in your waters since the early days of yore, when the air was soft and sweet like tarted taffy from tuckers store. I long to see your shimmering body and gaze you over after forgetting what it was I wanted to do.
At night you patiently wait for us to rise, and with the sun we circle you, desperately trying to consume all that is there. Above and below the silky cover we lay our teeming minds to rest, and seemingly uncover a lost emotion, that escapes as soon as the roads widen and trees clear.
O’ Quaker, remind me once again how the old is undone, and the worst of worry dissolved within your belly. Take me out and never bring me back on a walk through your shaded arms. Spoil me with a season of friends, sure to keep me full throughout the year.
Kai Monticello 