AT THE LAKE
By Doug Tanoury
 

At the lake,

These last days in June

Are like living inside of an opal,

For there is a golden fire

In the sunlight,

A strobe-like flash

Reflected on each wave,

A cool lushness in the trees

Growing slowly toward full foliage,

And there is a certain point 

Way out the channel, where the freighters steam,

Where a thin band of milky white atmosphere

Separates the pale blue of sky

From the deep blue lake,

Out where the red beacon on the lighthouse

Seems to regulate the meeting of air and water

And marks that misty point where earth ends

And heaven begins.
 

#

DOUG TANOURY is primarily a poet of the Internet with the majority of his work never leaving electronic form.  His verse can be read at electronic magazines and journals across the world.  Collections of poetry by Doug Tanoury can be found at Funky Dog Publishing http://www.funkydogpublishing.com/ and Athens Avenue http://mywebpages.comcast.net/dtanoury1/Athens/index.htm.  Doug grew up in Detroit, Michigan and still lives in the area.