There’s no real access to this lake,
just a small patch of dust in the brush
off the shoulder of a two-lane road.
One year, on New Year’s Eve,
serendipity led me here to see
how the sun set precisely into
the center of that grove of trees
on the opposite side of the lake.
Every year since, I’ve come
to watch it bid the year farewell.
Behind the trees, double train tracks
run from East Palestine, Ohio.
I walked them one frozen afternoon
last February when the derailment
halted traffic for a day. It was,
I figured, my only chance.
Now, as the fresh summer sun
dances among the lily pads
and licks my arms’ bare skin, I breathe
the warm, moist air and remember
how the year began here and recall
the sharp smells and the cold.