Lake Bath
My skin it sheens,
unsoaped, unclean.
But the clouds they block
my will to walk.
The day spins onward.
A push to wander:
“To the lake,” she
cries.
“Leave the tent behind.
I’m not wild of mind or
anything like;
just unwilling to spend
another night,
unwashed and ripe.”
So I find my courage -
“To cleanse and to
nourish!”
we shout to the skies
and
into water we dive.
And we bathe and we holler
And our will doesn’t
falter
Till our hides are
scrubbed,
dried and rubbed.
~~~~
And after, with
laughter,
We recall our endeavor
–
The time an ancient
crater
was met by wayward
bathers.
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