Across the Lake This cold mountain vista reflected so clear, So far across the lake, but seems so near. Snow like icing , dusted on peaks, Shadowey ravines and fast rocky creeks. There by a bluff a hawk soaring on high, For a moment I wished and dreamed I could fly. Below me the lake in shimmering blue, Then into a valley and upward I flew. Loose shingle rock grey in the morn, Steep black cliffs from where it was born Rainbows danced where a waterfall fell, Soft in a mist like a magical spell. Past great rocks perched on high, Like mountain gods , they laughed at the sky. Great rivers of snow caught and held fast, Many things of wonder I saw as I passed. Then down to the lake far below I flew, Past a dark valley where bright flowers grew. Then over that lake, my wings did soar, Past washed and black rocks to a familiar shore. There in a house perched high on its street, Sat a man with a rug covering his feet. By a chipped wooden window in silence he sat, His white face warmed with an old woolen hat. He watched as I passed, his eyes stared into mine, Sleek wings caught the sunlight and made them shine. Then gone from the sky, back alone I sat, By a chipped wooden window , in an old woolen hat.