Ancient, Silent and Horrible
She never comes up-so no body knows
But I know she’s there cause I seen her.
There’s a sea monster in Last Mountain lake.
It’s not very deep, but it is long
Only two paddle strokes to cross,
It disappears into the horizon
Once flowing from perpetual winter it sits and brews
That is why she stays
There are other lakes, other haunts
But none so ripe as this
The august surface lives
Blankets each cove, shore painted green
Summer slime is fine wine
This vintage is her secret
The others don’t know
For she likes to drink to drink alone
I named her pigtails
Hoping the gentle thought would ease the terror
Don’t worry, she is peace as melting snow
Yet only in sobriety
When the white caps
church the water clear,
her wits keep shy
often mistaken for rock or log
When green and brown float
On hot breathless days
Formless Lilly pads hide the shape
Of the monster beneath
Drunk on fermenting juice
She might forget herself
And venture too close to those who
Would discover her addiction
When tail brushes legs
They climb out of the soup
Hoping to wash away the itch
Ignorant they were touched by leviathan
