Limnophobia

By Kelly Alfano

Fear of Lakes

We were thirteen,
Skinned knees,
And cherry stained fingers.
She was strawberry blonde,
Ripped jeans, and dimples.

We’d cast by the lake,
On tire swing Tuesday’s,
With piggy bank change
Shrimp on the end of a hook¬¬.
She’d fight a trout til’ sundown,
While I fed mosquitos.

When winter arrived
We drank warm cider,
And danced on our frosted lake.
The ice cracked,
Like her smile.