This chilly water I am sitting in.
Could it be Lake Michigan?
Slimy minnows in spurts.
Sharp stones that poke and hurt.
The sand is a bit harsh.
But exfoliates if you’re in a rush!
The breeze is a bit chilly.
The seagulls are a bit silly.
I get tangled in the seaweed.
And splashed by boats that speed.
But when we get tired, we always find the perfect tree.
A picnic lunch, with the best food you’ll see.
Until the wind tears our blanket away.
And that’s the end of our beach day!
Pet Poem, My Pup Hufty
(My fist year living away from my parents)
I wanted a puppy. I didn’t choose her,
But she became mine, staring out the third-floor
Window of that Chicago apartment, together
Watching it snow as I asked her, “What do you see?”
My artist friend picked her, “For her beauty,” he said,
Tho I didn’t see it, as she was a short-haired blonde,
While our family dogs had been black and scruffy or
Mostly so...Still, we’d walk daily in cold, falling snow.
On the shore of Lake Michigan, I’d let her run free
And she found great joy in scrambling over Ice
Plates set askew, angles to angles, waves frozen in
Mid-motion. She thrilled in the attempts to run.
Happy, I watched, cheering her on, then on
Back at home, she shadowed me, famous for
Sleeping on my sketches as I worked and growling
Away apartment mice. She traveled in three states
With me. She was mine completely and still is...
Watching for me over the bridge...
To come and so walk together again under
Falling stardust with the rest of our waiting pack.
**********. ************. ***********
(c) sally Young Eslinger 12/2020
Thanks be to God
The screen door
Of the lakeside cabin
Is carved with slices
The size of claws
From the jumping family dog
Of long ago
From which fish flies skim through
The moonlit din
Thinning
Themselves
Into those slots
Dropped
Like silver coins
Into the lamp light
Of the cabin
Hoping it’s enough
To re-start the cuckoo clock
Left for dead
On my old man’s wall.
Steering our boat across the moon glow
Like a fork stabbed through cream
We careen in the sheen of upside down light at 3:30 A.M.
The July night tries to close on us like a lid
The result of one too many martinis
By dad at Dockside Shhhhhhh
Let it go
The bow parting the Milky Way Shhhhhhh
Startling the Whitefish Weightless
Them and us
Life vests free of bodies
The kids in their early 20s Passengers wondering
How they had gone through life
Never feeling the sweat of the moon
On their skin like this
Until now, their dad their uncle her husband
He has something left to offer them all
Grinning
Like any secret boat owner still alive on a big lake.
Tip of her kayak
Tears
At the tissue of Torch Lake
In its morning middle
New sun floating blurry
A half-deflated balloon
Struggling on a string above the hills
Fists of fog like marble hands
Warming themselves in the steam
From the night-chilled water
I can barely see our daughter
Out there
Lit
Like a dragonfly
On the petal of a blue flower
The ends of her pink paddles
Slowly
Beating up and down
Along her sides
Wings
Testing the delicate air
Making her way to the other shore.
I put my binoculars down.
Next week she leaves for Marketing school in college.
Arms and legs peddling struggling
I tread
In the middle of the lake
There is 300 feet of blue water
Between the soles of my feet
And the 10,000 year old dance floor beneath.
Torch Lake never gives up her dead.
The lake’s bottom is pocked
With springs bursting as jets from Middle Earth
Jumbling boulders like popcorn.
This is where the drowned bodies sink
Irretrievable by dive teams or priests
Those Ojibwa fishermen ripped from their Birch canoes
Loggers clunked dead on their heads
Great Depression titans
Still stitched to their britches
Top hats and bow ties
Pistols clutched to their hands
Wives sunk from hurt and betrayal
Factory workers snapped in two
A young girl from a rowboat
Caught in a sudden storm
Clapping for her tossed dog
She dove in.
I wonder from down there
Where they’re all doing the jig
What I look like to them
Up here?
Another man walking on his knees?
Just as mirror of the sea,
Lake Michigan’s shinning big.
Boats are passing with the sails –
summer has refreshing air.
Ideal shallow to swim water –
heated, crystal air vibrates,
at trees people sit in shades,
some are playing on fine sand.
Shining with the crystal sparks,
spacious beaches - waterfront
and the Downtown stands afar.
Reddish setting sun with lure,
sky has color of vast water –
pleasant air descents cool.
I look upon the water glittering and bright, white caps flashing, dancing diamonds in the light
The breeze is strong, crisp and clear. Boats abound jibing sails dotted far and near
A flash of white and screeching cry, seagulls appear racing through the sky
Sun on my face fills me with cheer, for finally spring is here
The coast before me melds into cityscape, buildings spiraling high. Glass and steel glimmer bright in the light, stretching far before my sight
People hurry by hither and thither, and I wonder if any take a pause to consider
The beauty of this place, this breath in time, spring is here truly a moment divine
on the banks of lake michigan i found my true loves soul
tired and twisted in a wreckage of folded metal resembeling avatgard sculptures
nameless, senseless, and cold i drug her from the wreckage while the sky was painted red and black
now with the moon in my eyes i breathe life into her mouth but each breathe given means each breathe taken
as as the sun begins to rise i see visions of a former life- forgotten life when we once loved eachother-
when we were children dancing in the spring rain
warm and wet we embrace under endless rainbows saturated with everything under the sun
we become spring rain, we become one
now with the coming of the day i say farewell to past love, i say farewell to past life
where im goin no man can follow
im going to the sun so i can stay warm.
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