Print by Sequin Baker
The Lake
The lake lies still this morning.
Dawn tests her colors on the sky above.
And paint drips into the water.
Dew sparkles in the first hints of coming heat.
The lake lies still — mingling dawn
With lingering darkness until sunlight
Spears the trees with slanted shafts
that touch the water and fire it
Gold — quickly-fading gold, for the light
Advances. Along the shore the guard
Changes. Creatures of the night slip away
To hide and sleep; day’s denizens arrive:
A morning drink, a hunt for food, a pause
To catch the first of the day.
The lake ripples gently in the whisper
That stirs the needles of the pines.
Land and sky are wed in the water
Of the lake. Trees admire themselves.
Seeing birds on some branches, fish
In others. Fish pierce the clouds.
Faint light becomes full light, and the lake
Accepts it all. But she seems reluctant
To let dawn leave; she keeps the freshness
In her sheltered coves, along overhanging banks.
And deep within her silent heart.
By Clara Wood
Clara “Doc” Wood, Associate
Professor of English, teaches
American Literature and various
freshman English courses at
Brevard. She has been accused of
an intemperate delight and in
terest in puns. She received her
Ph.D in philosophy at UNC-
Chapel Hill.
Sequin Baker enjoys painting,
sculpture photography and
drawing. She likes to relax while
hiking in the beautiful N.C.
mountains. Sequin was born in
Mississippi and has lived in such
places as Colorado, Georgia and
Florida. She is a sophomore at
Brevard majoring in Art.