In this shimmering liquid tourmalineA teal and gold-breasted kingfisher whistles in the green pinesAs the lake’s cool breath whispers in my earShe speaks of laughing trout gliding in her bellyHumans pouring acid in her veinsAnd her tree friends she has lostI am wrapped in the scent of salt and sweetnessAs the freezing rush of cold water billows about my handAnd the smooth trout wriggle across the lake