Sue Fraser (2019)
Those who spend time sitting silent
from the dawning through to twilight
see the changing play of colours
as the sun moves through the sky.
Every hour the water changes,
from the black of night-time dangers
to translucent palest aqua that reveals the
Daybreak shows the pinks reflected on the water unexpected
in their myriad of shades from deep magenta to a blush.
Sunset throws a fiery orange and the birds then cease to forage
winging darkly to their perches as the last rays dim the brush.
Our lake can be still and tranquil, leaving watchers feeling thankful for a quiet time
of respite from their very busy day.
Other times she shows her fury as the wind tears at her during
those ferocious storms that whip her roiling surface to a spray.
Over years of walking by her I have watched the algae mire her
to a green primordial soup that smells of musty, slow decay.
Dearth of rain up in her catchment causes waterhole detachment
leaving fish trapped lacking oxygen to slowly fade away.
Then the rain falls to refresh her, to release the mounting pressure on the
sandbar at her exit to the restless open sea.
All the death that lurks within her then is flushed, and she begins her
transformation to a waterway, alive and clean and free.