Sunday, Labor Day Weekend, September 2, 2012
The forecast clouds disappeared,
and the sky appeared (and brought humidity)
blue sky blue reflected
on the waves and in the wake of boats
on the private Michigan lake,
where I grew up in two residences on the same lake
over thirty-six years ago.
Thirty-six years.
And as I lean back
in a white chair with cushions
and held my knees up to my chest,
I felt this place for the first time,
I felt
displaced for the first time
as we no longer have our physical space.
And the lake seemed to respond to my sorrow
as we listened to the man playing "Taps"
with a bugle on the lake into my sentiment
and my heart sank in tandem with the sunset.
And I gazed up at the afterglow
of a recent full moon on the lake with its
reflection on the water through blurred vision,
a single tear cascading down my left cheek.
Sunday, Labor Day Weekend, September 2, 2012
The forecast clouds disappeared,
and the sky appeared (and brought humidity)
blue sky blue reflected
on the waves and in the wake of boats
on the private Michigan lake,
where I grew up in two residences on the same lake
over thirty-six years ago.
Thirty-six years.
And as I lean back
in a white chair with cushions
and held my knees up to my chest,
I felt this place for the first time,
I felt displaced for the first time
as we no longer have our physical space.
And the lake seemed to respond to my sorrow
as we listened to the man playing "Taps"
with a bugle on the lake into my sentiment
and my heart sank in tandem with the sunset.
And I gazed up at the afterglow
of a recent full moon on the lake with its
reflection on the water through blurred vision,
a single tear cascading down my left cheek.
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