Private History
after Milagros Mumenthaler’s, The Idea of a Lake

Today, the meadow presents the idea of a lake.
Two places to see the wind
trailing, like a finger through water.
The eye moves quickly over the flowers
so they appear as if through glass,
sun-baked, sand and salt
sluffing off a mirage.
The vacation is unbeatable.
A rind contains it, crumbles
into a few mountains and the lake.
Roses grow best here. Cake rises more quickly.
Best told in the wrist are both beauty and trauma,
the tennis and the oars,
the day contained there, felt and felt.
The wrist is placed under the pillow at night.
The pink rock produces salt.
Everything starts over in the morning.