Moon Over Norway Lake

When we turned off the lights

in the lake house, our reflections

in the windows disappeared

and the moon cast moonlight down

onto the surface of frozen Norway Lake.  

Where I once I had seen myself, now

I was inspired by stillness

of winter, whirling through air,

and when I lay down I felt

my imagination lift me

off into the ice fishing house of dreams:

a ceramic owl staring

back from the deck,

a vain search for the coffee grinder,

the perils and pleasures of money,

and muppets.  

The moon watched me

sleeping.  I’m certain of this,

for she told me I was talking

in my sleep more than usual,

and this time it was about a cyclops

laughing in the arctic freeze,

puffs of heated breath fogging up

its eye. I awoke to a pink banner

of sunrise just above the treetops

surrounding the perimeter of Norway Lake.