Sloko Lake

Shotgun shells
painted the dirt.
Only the pine trees
knew the story.

The story of the pair of bodies
found face down in the lake,
angering the fish
with their cold eyes
and colorless skin.

It’s all fun and games
until someone points a gun at you.

Falling pinecones
echoed in the forest.
A Black Swift flew silently.
Smell of cedar smoke
on the air.

Grey clouds
closed in on the lake
as the bodies slowly made their way
to rock bottom.

All was quiet, and snow began to fall.


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