By the docks
outside Otter Lodge
where fir boughs and pebbles
meet the lake,
a dark descends,
blackens the horizon -
except the eye of the red lantern
and the animal whoops and glasses tinkling,
the human chatter and dance and mingling
from the square, squatted cabin.

A hush by the lapping tide
where the red lantern swings
above a rough, wooden pier.
A loon waddles in shadow
of the dock's round, splintered logs.
A trumpet bellows, languidly,
knotting its notes
like a dyad's many fingers
enmeshed -
its echo lost in the water.

© 1990 - 2003 Katharina Woodworth