Private Lake

Alone with the Mussels

I rise up in the middle
with moon rings cloudy in my eyes
I tread the dust in silver ponds
and speak to the bones of my ache

who are you now and why complain
be satisfied still with quiet in the earth
for many have died beneath large bullet
and rotted away in the frost

but you are alive with thoughts in your belly
and your prayers still go up to heaven