Snapshot from Lake Wawasee

I leave the water behind
unable to bear it any longer
and advance towards the camera
which is my life, hands sunk deep in
pockets like fish avoiding the predatory
nature of nature. Here, where the obligatory
wind plays magic havoc with my madcap hair,
I begin to stare at the ground in front of me, out
of frame, as if there were answers somewhere just
beyond reach, but the lens doesn't allow a large
enough panorama. I am limited to what is caught
for a moment in its brilliant net, dazzled by the light
and the background blue, by the trees arched toward
this solemn figure I cannot comment on nor claim,
an accident like birth or death, or any other
sacred thing that shapes and surrounds,
that creates pictures I can neither
walk away from, nor out of.