Lake Ontario

I am on a bench looming over Lake Ontario.

I am now that bench, next to a war memorial that is covered by the shadow of an American flag with fading colors.

I am a turtle, camouflaged by a rock.

I am very shy, very quiet, and very careful as a strong wave hits the rock below me.

I am the geese that lags behind the formation for a brief moment.

I am holding the secret of why proudly, and rejoining the flock as we disappear into the horizon in infinite regress.

I am back at the bench, some other day. I have a single gray hair and my crows feet are deeper.

I am the wind that pushes some leaves into the water which floats onto the sand, which a small bug crawls under and which carries…

That formation of geese, again, which I become, but the V-shape is uneven.

Because now there are more geese on one side.

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