An unfamiliar quiet hangs over the lake today,
a kind of waiting for the high-pitched shouts
and laughter that danced over its waves
on every sunny day since June.
The children are gone, carried
from their homes just after sunrise
in bright yellow buses to the county’s schools.
The kids, I imagine, were filled with excitement,
glad for something new at last,
for reunion with old friends,
for moving once again toward grown-up.
But here at the lake, it’s awfully quiet.
I walk its shores and whisper to its waves,
“I know. I know.”