The Lake.

The moon shon in a thick bar of light,
Oily it moved in smooth waves,
Slowly stilling the wind had left,
Duskly I watched the last glimmers
On the lake filled with hope of love
The sleepy moon forgot its songs,
And lay in the thicket now long.
Mammals and insects beconned,
Rustling the fallen bones full leaf,
Bows creaked above reaching upwards
Until the raised beds opened learnedly