Archive
08/16/09 - (3)
Lives
At 8:30, the sun having yet to set, I'm the lone guest on Lawn Beach Inn's deck, Whose towering trees, in sympathy with the breezes, Whisper gentle rhapsodies, to my contentment. Sunday evening is reluctant to leave Lake Nebagamon. Gazing at the public beach, below, I watch the last brave souls emerge from the cold water, Dry off, with their towels, don night's robe, And I speculate on the lives awaiting them, Anticipate the life waiting for me, When I finish eating, walk back to my cabin, Where I've known happiness, for days, weeks, on end, Over the past four years, The life I leave up here, reluctantly, each time I pack, Head home, to the life that keeps sending me back.
08/16/09 - (3)
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