No Utterance of Her Own

Since the swan had died

In frigid winter winds,

The lake became deserted.

A lonely puddle, missing

The swan's vibrant voice.

The lake had no utterance

Of her own.

She cried, making ripples;

Missing her protector.

The winds, apologetic,

Froze the upset waters

To make amends.

It eased the ache briefly

But she worried

About the emptiness

Of springtime.

The lake waited

And winter thrived.