somedays i’m amazed with how much peace i’ve found in my life
there is a rhythm to cooking eggs in the morning
to turning the shower head against the wall to avoid the shock of the water
to listening to morning music while i eat the eggs alone in my living room

there is a brightness to morning that can’t be mimicked by anything
i fall in love each night with the headlights that slide along my bedroom ceiling
i am grateful for the whistle of a teapot
i am grateful for the slow and simple in this long and languid life
i am grateful for your liquid sunshine faces, for your moonlight sonata

it’s okay to be a heavy rock at the bottom of a river
the white rapids will paint stories on your freckled back

if you’re feeling lonely
there’s a missed opportunity in there
to let a stranger into your home
sometimes that’s what it takes
when family is too familiar
and friends echo on the other side
of the invisible wall you add stones to
leave your door wide open
and see who the wind blows in

this poem is hard to write
because right now i just am
there is no war in my chest
there is an armistice in my arms
and i can still feel my hands push through
the reflections of clouds
on the thick water
of ken’s lake


Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

8 thoughts on “KEN’S LAKE”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s