poem | The Ripples Always Lakeside Roll

It's a new week, a new year. It's Monday morning and a warm day in North Carolina. I was sorting some files on my laptop and came across a poem I wrote maybe five years ago and thought I'd share it. It's strange for me to encounter it now.

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The Ripples Always Lakeside Roll

part the willows branches
with your fingers, with your face,
brush a fern and denim scene
of a grace sometimes displaced

gleeful, muttering, furrowed, hushed,
the ripples always lakeside roll,
a shore knows only arms outstretched,
the water filling, making whole

breaking shores become banks
with water learns to play, to move,
to dance within a field together,
never every whole is new

--Daniel R. Morehead