On my surface
I am boats
Roaring engines
Teenagers driven
By anxious pace
With burnt faces

I stare down the sun
Unaware of race
Of grandparents
The spill of gasoline
This stain upon me

At my centre
I am your clean lake
Deep water
Full of quiet history
Lost legends

My arms are weeds
Indigenous
They grow
Toward you now
Thin as sun rays
Strong as time