Cirrus clouds cluster over the Sawtooth Mountains,
spilling orange coloring over the lake,
as the sun drops below the horizon.
From pines on the hillside, campfire smoke
rises, then vanishes. An evening
to remember. Gulls hover overhead
lamenting their laments, while happy
Golden Retrievers chase far-flung
sticks thrown across the harbor beach.
Distance dogs keep barking, helping you recall
the sounds of this moment, but even they will soon be
inaudible when you enter the Angry Trout for dinner.
You linger outside as leather-coated motorcycle riders
sputter, then speed off, letting whatever inequities
of distance settle with their disappearance.
Turning toward the lake before entering the restaurant,
you notice the upper half of a man paddling a kayak
and miniature people walking on the outer jetty,
stitching themselves into your recollections,
which may or may not hold fast in this
late summer evening that slowly sinks away.
Sandra lives in Minnetonka, Minnesota and is the author of a book of poetry published last year by Main Street Rag (This Distance in My Hands) and four chapbooks. Her poetry has appeared online and in print journals throughout the USA and Britain.