Day 122: Loch

122 loch

Calm expanse, mosquitoes brooding over the water, rippling where the cold Scottish breeze rolls in, my imagination skip-skimming across the dark surface like a stone. Salmon resting in your nooks, and who knows what monsters lie beneath, in the soft muddy dark, or how deep you really are? Swallowed plumb lines and carelessly held fishing rods, a few fallen oars too, no doubt, laying at the bottom in the rocky crevices, like meal remnants in the teeth of the real Leviathan, who breathes in the glittering light and dives in the dusk, the spirit of the loch.

© Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2015

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