Monday, April 4, 2016

Happy

I wore a wool peacoat with the collar high
stood on the rocks with a mug of hot tea
and looked out over Mille Lacs
as if it were mine

The sun rose a cut blood orange that morning
the winter ice broke up into chunks
floated away to the far horizon
and fell over an edge so sharp
I thought that people long ago
who thought the earth was flat
weren't so dumb after all

The March wind blew the water this way and another
the light glinting where it pleased to glint
every wave a different shade of blue
Mille Lacs a thousand lakes and one
all of them mine