Mystic Michigan
We stood at the edge of Michigan,
the upper not the lower.
The gulls were not us,
the sun-soaked sky was not us,
yet ten fingers deep we were everything.
That phenomenal us, skimmed over wave-tops.
went shopping in Muskegon;
bought a car
then came back to the lake
as a golden retriever.
The mystics in the water waved
(they could have been sinking).
The retriever waded in and out
happy to be a part of everything.
I waved at the invisible mystics,
(they could have been flying).
You carried yourself upward
into my heart.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2021
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