Lake View, with a Line from Hopkins

The blue and yellow trampoline float 
is upside down in the water, a few 
feet away from the dock. High winds 
from a day before did that. But it's 
still weighted down by its anchor. 
If I could swim I might help go out 
to right it. Instead we sit on plastic 
chairs as the sun goes down and flocks 
of geese honk in the traffic of their 
own making before they take to the sky. 
The surface of the lake reflects sound and
light like a mirror— like shining from shook
foil. The path back to the cottage is marked 
with feathers and stubs of deep green droppings.