Illustration by Blair Thornley

Moonrise softens the lake's steel blue
to sky, and wind-driven ripples to powder.
Those distant shadows are boats docked
near cottages huddled on this narrow spit
at land's end. For a moment, we are deaf
to the ocean beyond, lost in the surrender
of color that means the world still turns.
The cold, when it comes, is another form
of light. It leads us back toward home.