Confessions Truly Made

We stand before the lake and rising dawn
Still naked from our night of making love
And watch the bursting light ascend upon
The further shore and standing pines above.
The sky a mottled scene of clouds and birds,
The sand below our feet so soft and cool -
With no attempt to put our thoughts to words,
We’re in compliance of some greater rule.
So not a tremor of the sad afraid
And little words that bring just mad regrets -
Not speaking of confessions truly made
The night before about my grievous debts,
We stand in an attempt to make this last
But know right now the dawn by now has passed.