Lake DesChênes

My God,
How you paint the sky,
So beautifully feathered
In pink and red
And lavender and purple
And orange too,
And a touch of wine,
Delicate and deep,
Soft and rich
Against a bright blue heaven.
I, too, am rich
With the joy of your creation.
The day is darkening.
The sky is brightening.
Then it is darkening.
The geese are landing;
Smoothly gliding
In the ruby red
Of the sun’s bed
When this day is shed
And poplar leaves call me to my bed.

Cy