Nostalgia (The Lake At Night) by Lloyd Schwartz

The black water.

Lights dotting the entire perimeter.

Their shaky reflections.

The dark tree line.

The plap-plapping of water around the pier.

Creaking boats.

The creaking pier.

Voices in conversation, in discussion—two men, adults--serious inflections (the words themselves just out of reach).

A rusty screen-door spring, then the door swinging shut.

Footsteps on a porch, the scrape of a wooden chair.

Footsteps shuffling through sand, animated youthful voices (how many?)—-distinct, disappearing.

A sudden guffaw; some giggles; a woman's—no, a young girl's—sarcastic reply; someone's assertion; a high-pitched male cackle.

Somewhere else a child laughing.

Bug-zappers.

Tires whirring along a pavement . . . not stopping . . . receding.

Shadows from passing headlights.

A cat's eyes caught in a headlight.

No moon.

Connect-the-dot constellations filling the black sky—the ladle of the Big Dipper not quite directly overhead.

The radio tower across the lake, signaling.

Muffled quacking near the shore; a frog belching; crickets, cicadas, katydids, etc.—their relentless sexual messages.

A sudden gust of wind.

Branches brushing against each other--pine, beech.

A fiberglass hull tapping against the dock.

A sudden chill.

The smell of smoke, woodstove fires.

A light going out.

A dog barking; then more barking from another part of the lake.

A burst of quiet laughter.

Someone in the distance calling someone too loud.

Steps on a creaking porch.

A screen-door spring, the door banging shut.

Another light going out (you must have just undressed for bed).

My bare feet on the splintery pier turning away from the water.

             -- by Lloyd Schwartz
                 (from Cairo Traffic, University of Chicago Press)

 

Comments

[Gordon K. Burns]

Lloyd, loved this poem "The Lake at night". I felt like I was home in West Brookfield on the lake in the 60's. It brought back so many memories.

[rogerio zola santiago]

Marvelous! Rogerio Zola Santiago

[LloydSchwartz]

Thank you! Thank you!

[Lloyd Schwartz]

Thank you!

[Lloyd Schwartz]

Thank you!

[Lloyd Schwartz]

I'd love to see your translation of this poem!

[Miriam Levine]

The past is present!