I watched the shoreline pushing back the ice for weeks
until the last knotted muscles of the lake broke free
and it smiled in silver glimmers beneath the pier,
took cast-off leaves in quickened fingers to adorn its cheeks,
and was happy.
Someone will say it is the same lake
because they love joy less than they hate surprises
and don't feel the difference when the light strikes the bottom.
©Reyzl Grace, 2023