Dawn, yes and the mist, what else do you
except on Lake Martin early summer?
Swamp cypress dripping with Spanish moss.
I have stopped rowing, water swirling around
oar blades. The silence is absolute I dare
not inhale, a bird shrieks, the lake shudders.
An evil thought has entered Paradise.
I hear the fain noise of outboard motors.
The moment of ethereal stillness has gone.
I lit a cigarette inhale deeply, exhale and blow
rings of pure delight into morning air.
Warning: Cigarette smoking is injurious to health.
