I grew up beside a 15-mile-long recreational lake that blasted with power boats all summer. The end of summer was sweet nectar to me becuz all the tourists went home & the lake got quiet & still again. Your words & image bring me back there, big time (((HUGS)))
what isn't in this poem is what is....
speaks volumes...no boats, but also no one sitting in the chair...which makes me ponder as a reader...who was there who isn't now...
did the sitter leave on the boat, die on the dock?
I would love to have this picture on my wall. I have a painting my mom did up on the wall, it is of two empty chairs on a porch....same feeling...why empty, who sat in them? Maybe my parents, who are both gone now.
Lots of questions...I love it when there are words unsaid...