The Loon

The loon seems to call to me from across the lake, but only seems of 
	course.
I do not believe (you must understand) that he really calls to me on 
	this misty morning,
I do not believe.
Still, he does sound lonely out there on the dark lake.
Of course I cannot go right now. 
It would seem unseemly for one like me,
For one who doesn't believe, 
To rush and leave undone my usual morning things for something that 
	only seems.  
I hope that he will wait.  
Suppose that by the time the morning sun dispels the mist he will 
	have fled.
He and I and even the lake will seem quite lonely if I am late,
But only seem, of course, 
For I do not believe.