Torch Lake Invasion

If gold coins and silver dollars Could turn hollow and float On the quivering skin of Torch Lake July backstroke of jingle Belly rings nipple rings This would be it Drowning Japanese Beetles Tossed by handfuls to the surface water From jewelry boxes kept by robbers What better way to give it back? Bringing justice to generations Of those who’ve always wondered What exactly happened to my keepsakes? Sky Lake I am cut in half at my cold waist Like a poor boy on a rural road Who’s come across a tipped over Brinks truck Coughing in the hot dust Of swimming nickels and pennies I look around Then wade through my newfound riches My beggar’s palms Scoop up the reflections Collect to the dock bits and pieces Of the struggling metallic creatures And wisps of cloud sun and wind A stirring gaudy pile Grows of second chances To be picked over by my kids Who say “Eweee. Yuck. and Beautiful. Daddy You are a pirate. Captain Bly!” Ey I don’t know why I do these little things Saving these treasures As coin by coin takes wing Flies away To my kids’ great wonder.