Treasures of Brannen Lake

Treasures of Brannen Lake - by K.D. DeFehr

Brannen Lake was like a grey sheet,

mirroring the hazy, overcast sky.

The sun was somewhere, half swallowed,

its rays casting an eerie, orange gloom

over the city of smoke that was Nanaimo

during the summer of a thousand wild fires.

My love and I were on our backs, floating

on a green blow up mattress, flicking ash

from cheap cigarillos into the cool, murky water.

He was copper toned and I was freshly inked,

bare toes grazing lake weed as we drifted closer

to the chain link fence at the lake's edge.

Beyond that was the city correctional center,

minimum security, its concrete walls dividing

us from old friends, and old friends

from familiar troubles. Something about that

gave me a thirst to abandon ship, feet first,

head under water in that cold, black lake.

The water seemed to take back everything -

the soot from my skin, the dust from my hair,

the breath from my lungs,

and a precious, Hawaiian, sterling silver ring

now escaping between frantic finger tips.

Panic caught inside my throat.

I watched it slipping, doing a tantalizing dance

among the current of my own flailing limbs,

as the red ball in the sky began to sink.

Gone, in one last glint of light

before fading into

darkness.

© Original work of Kailey Dawne DeFehr