I Chose to walk
the trail to the lake
alone, tonight
The sun is lowering,
shadows lengthening,
tree tops sun brushed.
The mockingbird sings,
the cardinal answers.
The water now in view
reflects a second ridge,
mocking the real.
From the lakes' other side
the evening call of two loons,
mated for life.
At the small lake,
I sit in my Adirondack.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem