The Loon

Beside a north woods lake

The Loon

I stood in the chilly morning
On the shore of a deep wood lake.
A low mist covered the surface,
a white carpet to the hill beyond.
A red glow of coming dawn
outlined its pine forest crest
announcing the coming dawn.
Then a loon greets it,
An eerie haunting sound
Its source unseen.
It was easy to understand
Why folk could think of madness.
From another direction another call
Announcing another forest day.