The day we went looking for Silver Lake
the long trail took us off the mark. Eager
for some vantage point, we turned to make
a shortcut up the ridge. We scanned the meager
vistas only to find ourselves looking back
from where we'd come, at another lake
spread out below. So too, do we backtrack
in the wilderness our sad histories make.
And those who trek together and hope to be
lovers may lose the direction and the height.
Silver Lake waits there still, patiently,
its ghostly waters filling up with light,
but we could not find our way. Though most contrive
to finish every journey-- not all arrive.