Cold Lake Water by Beth-Anne Vanderlaan

Cold Lake Wafer

by Beth-Anne Vanderlaan

It's cold. The air freezes

as it leaves my mouth.

But the house is too cramped,

too hot, too noisy.

I can't breathe in there.

Vacation takes us to

the lake. And the cabin here.

It's my first time as a grafted branch

into the vine of this family. And

I am about to suffocate.

So I pick up a rock, feel it over

and throw it across the lake.

I can't skip rocks,

but today is as good as any to learn.

Skip. sink.

Sink. Plop.

Then Matthew comes

out of the house,

and stands beside me

in the cold.

Picking up a smooth stone

he easily swings his arm and

skip, skip, skip

across the lake it goes.

He picks up two stones now,

hands one to me, and we begin

again.

And suddenly

I remember

why I'm here.