I remembered the lake as clear, light blue With life teeming, doves beating wings for me The voice of wind like blaring horns rang through Protected by green trees, that was the key. I see the lake, a teal, not like before With life breathing, but no doves chirping free The voice of wind whispered, with no encore Circled by sand, trees withered around me. To maintain the past is more fruitless than Sisyphus pushing a rock that will not Stay where he wants it to lay, for no man Can capture the past, a fact forever. I remembered the lake, and what I love I see the lake, and miss songs from a dove.