Wow, “quiet of gold” “spool of dark”
I don’t know how you come up with such frantically good metaphors…
This poem put me in a mood, especially since the lake looks something like Tickle Naked Pond (google it) in Vermont where we always swam when we were up there in the 50’s.
A lovely poem, Adagio.
j.

Thank you, Jacob.

Wow, metaphorically delicious…
I want seconds.

Thank you.

I am impressed with the picture you painted with these words.

I am a big fan of porches, porch chairs, hammocks etc.

I can imagine a lot. Who sat there last, why?

who will lie on the hammock next?

I have memories that make me do this imagining…and this poem brings up many of those memories.

j.

Thank you

I am quite fond of meandering rivers when it comes to poetry. The uneven flow that defies rhyme but gives us a steady beat and focuses on painting the picture for us rather than confining itself to form.
Old dusty attics are so cool. We never know what we will find up there.
j.

I appreciate that.