Hold the Plan

The morning Sun is reflecting brightly off the water
a row boat with two riders is silhouetted
against the crystal orange fire
I hear the trees rustle behind me
as a cool breeze blows in across the lake
made chillier by the warming rays licking at my skin

the Volcano is clear, yet the far hills are barely visible
through the low fog they yet shield
on the left shore white smoke rises from a small fire
and at the middle distance two red flags blow
marking the channel to the bay

the lake is rippling in the wind
but here in the lee of a point
the surface is like glass
with jagged outcroppings of ancient lava
creating lagoons and pools

two ducks bob along fishing the shallows
crab shells lie strewn on rocks
remnants of last nights feast by the sea birds

colorful graffiti adorns the concrete seawall