She sits alone in a lawn chair
within a shelter overlooking the lake,
watching her mate walk along the bank
where she no longer dares to tread.

She is not as the dead leaves that have fallen,
but is alive to look where the green meets
the concrete of the shelter floor. She places her
mind into the ripples of water and floats along
the top of the water’s skin, letting the dampness
refresh her soul within

She forgets the container beside her which feeds
her the important breath of living. Her mind is clear
as an unfogged mirror freshly cleaned. God blesses her
with a breeze of freshness, teasing her olfactory sensor
with smells of fresh mown hay across in some farmer’s field.

The very water holds an odor of boat gas and fish, but
as long as it is familiar she does not mind.
She pictures herself being hoisted into a boat - a pontoon.
Given a pole she casts it into the greenish oblivion of
unknown depth and content. What will she catch today?

Her husband walks back toward her with a smile of tender grace
and eyes soft as a new lover. Her heart soars above all,
as she returns to her post within the shelter.
What more could there be.