Still: A Short Poem

​By: Ishita Khambete

​​I sat down next to the lake,
dipping my feet in the water.

The ripples in the water were brief and pretty,
and after they stopped,
I was able to see my face.

Everything is calm,
the birds chirping,
the leaves rustling.

Mosquitos buzzed around my face,
but I didn’t do anything to stop them.

The humid air seemed to press against my skin,
the dampness soaking into my clothes and hair.

Even then,
I sat near the lake,
my feet moving around in it.

The scene was quiet,
​but it was not still.