Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Star Lake, Sayner, Wisconsin

Twenty years and we can’t keep
a clean house, can’t agree on how
to store dishes. What we do well

is walk. Among lakes.
Few boats, few homes
on the shore. Loons love it
as we do. Sometimes a clearing

opens so we look the lake
directly in its blue eyes. A heron
swoops overhead. Lapping water
rubs a bay’s edge. Spring

flowers give way to mulleins
and fireweeds. Our beards,
whiter than last year.

Kenneth Pobo has a chapbook forthcoming from Eastern Point Press called Placemats. He enjoys gardening, 60s music, and reading. This summer he read two Thomas Hardy novels—definitely worthwhile.

Categories: Poetry

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1 reply

  1. I’ve always wanted to visit this corner of Wisconsin, and have never had the chance. Now I want to go even more. Lovely!

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