Little Inklings 2023

ISLA DUA ’27 THE LAKE OF THE LOST By: Harlan Hoenig ’28 A loon on a lake, placid and still, The cold autumn wind never breaking its will. As the leaves start to fall and the lake begins to freeze, The loon’s enigmatic call vanishes with the trees. The snow began to fall, like a curtain of white, For she’s headed South, away, out of sight. The son that she left was far from her choice, But now she must find her courageous voice. Even in the South, where the climate is warm, she cannot overcome the never-ending storm. She mourns at sea, her eyes so blurry, her tears, they fall, a violent snow flurry. Now it is spring, when life’s blooming, Her imminent return to the lake now looming. She gathers the strength to fly North once more, The place where she nested a short time before. When she reaches the lake, her hopes, they ascend, For her time of mourning has come to an end. The call of the loon returns to the trees, Its intimate song soars on the breeze. Though the axe may forget, the tree remembers, The flame that once roared subsides now to embers. Though she never gave up, with eyes on tomorrow, The lake of the lost still sings its songs of sorrow. 9