I shiver,
morning,
in the silence.
Is that my breath I see?
Mist hovering
over the lake,
possessing, protecting secrets
of the forest night.
I reach into the mist,
try to touch it,
but it swirls away,
the secrets unrevealed.
A flat stone beckons.
With a short windup,
A snap of the wrist,
one, two, three…seven good skips
and some sputters,
eerie through the mist
before the lake pulls the stone
into her belly.
The ripples flatten,
and all is silent again.