top of page
  • Brooke Miller

beneath the lotus lake




There is a girl 

beneath the water of the lake, 

auburn hair in a braid down her back,

pale skin – the water cold, 

no freckles yet on her surface. 


Her hand emerges from the lilies.

A childish giggle, chubby fingertips, 

lotuses make way for her ripples.

Songbirds dance in my left ear

as she wraps a daisy

 around the lobe 

of my right. 


The forest is silent and 

hides the breeze between evergreen leaves.

She whistles; her hair turns blonde as she descends.

How does this child not know how to drown?


I am lured deeper to see,

following young, icy eyes as

my daisy comes closer to an infinite 

source of crystal water, 

untouched from the spoils of 

the chopped bark near the city.


I’m pulled under. 

The songbirds hum softer than they do

above the surface. 


For a moment, I catch my breath 

with my reflection. 


- beneath the lotus lake


-


Art by Sophia Chung

bottom of page