Dave Chandler

The Lake

When Claire was five, some Saturday mornings we drove to my office. I worked for two or three hours while she played with the kids of a few other employees. Then we drove to a shop by a lake where we bought ice cream and threw stones into the water.

Today, as I walk the lake shore, I toss out a stone. Claire has no conscious memory of those days, but perhaps she holds a subconscious recollection.

my child
for inheritance
take this lake
of reflected teel green reeds
and white egrets

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About the Author

For years Dave Chandler has enjoyed reading poetry based on Japanese models. Since his recent retirement from managing social service and economic development programs, he has made writing poetry an avocation. His writing travels with him and his wife, Mary, between the Pilsen neighborhood of Chicago and the Driftless region of Wisconsin.