Lakewood, In August

i see fog
jewel

upon a green
neckline

of twin mountains
mirror

upon a lake
silver

one morning
i see

mist creeping
upon the mirror

a fish jumps
and creates the ripples

i feel cold air
coming inside

my window
that does not blink

on tranquil
infinity.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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