lovers lake

Lovers Lake (sonnet)


The lake we swam in was manmade, not a big lake
consisting mostly of rainwater, insipid to bathe in,
but it didn’t have unsafe undercurrents or unsavoury
things in its profundity. In May and June the tarn
was grey/blue but as summer lasted and little water
flowed into it, the mere turned muddy and by August
it was as brown as the leaves on the almond tree.
May is a good time to fall in love Trine and I used
to sit by the loch’s shore and talk about her future,
she had great plans that didn’t include me, but she
mysteriously vanished, gone overseas it was said.
Winters with no rain followed, the lake was reduced
to a hole in the ground and used as landfill; an odd
love story had come to an end under tons of debris.