(it only ever seems to get longer)
didn’t bring shoes,
you’re barefoot on the tar walkway
towel over your shoulder
running ahead ‘cause you’re impatient
then stopping to wait ‘cause there’s no point to being alone
and the lake only seems to get bigger as the world gets smaller
every edge of the map revealed to you
but never did you ever see every inch of that lake
cast a line
you always catch the same thing on the Hanska
dad shows brother how to take a photo to make your fish look bigger
you stand on the edge of water
and contemplate how you can stand on precipice
yet never truly teeter either which way
and then you’re swimming
kick out from the slimy hands of grass at the bottom
then swim further
deeper
t’ill suddenly you’re in new water
colder water
and you’ll learn the science behind that in a few years
but for now the lake stretches in wide yawning directions
and even with your new swim goggles
the world is a brown cold abyss of eternity
do some loopty-loops
t’ill up is down and down is up
feet planted on the rippling veil with the sunlight leaking through,
and your hand reached out
pushing past the cold front
feet in the sun
hand in outstretch, reaching out to rock(mud) bottom
and as you grow older the world only seems to press closer
into a chafing, tightening box
can’t escape it, it’s got you caught
and as you grow older Lake Hanska seems only farther away.