Lake Michigan

I remember the lake, and her fury

Her calm spirit and white foaming joy,

That bubbled as if knowing I was coming.

My foot prints taunting her tide’s ploy.

*

I remember those walks along her shore,

With rough sand, like ground peanuts.

And fish smell levitating from her waters,

With no salt to clean our sandy cuts.

*

In mornings, the sun, a curious child,

Will slowly rise, thinking just to peak.

But when it sees her, it must fully wake.

Finally, its rays reach my chilled cheek,

*

And the waters sparkle, a deepest blue,

Under the sun and cotton candy clouds.

She giggles, guggles, invites me to play,

But I stay on shore, alone, with no crowds.

*

She tickles my toes, then grabs the foot,

I step back, now we’ve begun the dance.

She taunts with fondness, knowing me well,

But I justify not taking the chance.

*

And so we pass the morning in full.

Me, refusing a beautiful wonder,

My scale tilted to a planned order.

All the while, wishing to plunge under.

*

And feel the water hit my tired face,

Combing through my hair, holding me,

Swallowing me, absorbing my fear.

Still, I choose the shore, instead of being free.