Leave the Great Lakes?
We feel their pulse in our blood,
in our sinews, our bones.
vibrations in our bellies.
Their islands arise in waking dreams.
And even in sleep we know
moon, stars and planets float in their waters
The Great Lakes gulp the sun at noon
while diatom symphonies
dazzle green currents
and curious protozoa graze.
In silent depths below
lie burbot, sturgeon, lake trout.
White sailboats belly out in the breeze.
On the beach rare piping plovers
hide their nests among stones.
We walk through singing sands,
scoop pails of water,
build spirit castles of wet sand.
Then we brush sand from our feet
and our hands.
The lakes’ imprint is in us.