Lake Life
Here are the fat flies
the woozy stars
silver nets the spiders have cast
Look here, the sunflowers have come in
boats buzz the shore
the scented moon
Steaks are broiling
children are barefoot
cats asleep in their beds of mint
Here is August
with its flowery yaw
dusted pollen road to the park
The motorcycle boys
roaring back to town
stale oak breath of the shore
Here are the halter top girls
with their tan lines and bangs
scented with sunscreen and strawberry gloss
Here it is again and soon it will be gone
back to the marina, back to the forest,
back, back, back, to the vault of summers
Where it will wait for us, anthropologists
of happiness, to excavate its dew and heat,
the smack of hulls on the skin of the lake.
We will find the pulse of crickets
and engines, the mantises on their knees
whispering their small green prayers.
The.American.Word. 
Comments
Very real. Very lake-ish. There is an awesome sense of movement and action in the seemingly subtle lines.
Jake,
I agree – and owe Eliz. an apology: the second line of each stanza should be indented two spaces. I could not make it work on our publishing platform. Alas. PT
Elizabeth, this captures the essence of why I have always lived on a lake!
Spent many a summer day on a lake myself. In a halter top. Love it!