A Green Lake Mourning

By Nova Berger

I like to see the ducks that dabble,

their feathers all askew

Behind them hear the friendly calls,

Of the jolly rowing crew.

As daylight softly pulls the dark,

A story starting new,

The quiet world begins to sound,

Grass rattles ripe with dew.

The color seeps in slowly,

Orange, purple, every hue

Like a candle warms a lantern

A vision just to view.

And in the misty mourning,

Stars sadden, they must hide

The sunrise is their cue.

But fear not world!

For sparrows glide,

And jays paint the morning blue.

The leaves dance in the daylight,

Tangerine oodles of curly cue.

And Elio’s spirit is with the ravens,

Muse of song, aids them as they flew

The hummingbirds spin melodies,

Calliope’s lyre spurs them on anew.

And the geese begin to fitter fatter

As the morning doves cuckoo.

So the morning isn’t one of mourning,

It’s full of wonder, color, dew.

The stage all set for daybreak's song,

A Shakespearean symphony, who knew!