Thursday, March 8, 2012

Lake Michigan, Wednesday

You may have had a moment of indecision
yesterday, say between two thirty and
two forty five in the afternoon, followed

by a sense of déjà vu or perhaps the warm
welcoming feeling common to those
entering a fire lit room from a frozen

porch at twilight, awash somehow in
a flood of nostalgia for the good old
days, a mercy really, when you stop to

consider them in a less than flattering
light, the kind that bathed the wind lashed beach
north of Grand Haven in a feeble gloom

I tried my best to dispel, hands extended
high above the furious waves, eyes closed
in benediction to you on the opposite shore.

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