a small lake

A small lake

There was a lake not far from the white-washed hamlet

in the interior of the Algarve; on hot summer days, witnessed

by my dog, which shuddered at the thought.

It was a small lake surrounded by hillsides, modest

almost unobstructed, just water, no big deal

One day when driving past the lake had disappeared

a dent in the ground full of thistles and tine of tunny

Oh, come think of it, a rowing boat that once had been

optimistically blue, but now sad dried teardrops.

The plane between the hill where the lake lived

is a center for helicopter services; not that much I mind

but I would rather see the lake again in the moonlight.