despite it all

the lake
is wind swept
to one
corner.
and the debris
of not
just leaves
has settled
near the dock.
every can
and plastic
cup
sways with
the light tide.
pens
and books
without their
covers.
wine bottles
and
shoes. spent
condoms
and clothes
float like
fallen angels.
and geese
pay no mind
to any of it,
the green etched
turtles
climb across,
their heads
moving side to side.
a fish in
the distant center
leaps,
glimmering in
a soft winter sun.