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At The Lake
Monday, September 14, 2026
Blue Poetry
BLUE POETRY
At the Lake
Duck quacks, fussing over water territory.
Every day it's different, she said, and it's true.
Flat one day, waves another. Going east, going west.
Ruffles in the middle, ruffles on the edges.
Birds everywhere, birds nowhere.
No foggy swirls before September.
Pitter-patter rain dust in August.
July rain like we missed it, and sun, same.
Reflecting the full moon at 2 AM.
Shimmering the sunbeams at 2 PM.
A lake with docks. 17, I count from here.
I caught a rainbow trout and let it go.
A mallard family swam by, intent on duck life ignores mine.
The dock with chair and table and kayaks, and me.
September 14, 2026 10:40 AM
Hi, I'm Eugene Harnett
Highly Trained by my wife
Back in '82, I married into another country, another race, another language and culture, another way of doing things, simple things, like organizing kitchen shelves, tying shoes, shopping for bread, all different... when I married my beloved from Japan, Yoshi.
We were introduced by our favorite pastor but could not be more opposite, except our birth dates which shoulder each other. Our marriage turned out to be a blessing. I'm a pastor, an uncle, and a grandpa. Stick around, you might learn something from our boiling marriage stew.
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