Archive 09/23/11 - (3)

 

   

Lake-Fate

                                                                  

This scintillatingly quiet Friday midnight,

Gazing into the obscured heavens,

Whose clouds have begun breaking apart —

The spirit's soothsayers

Blowing handfuls of stars

Through its hazy layers —

I realize that this upper-Wisconsin lake

Is the most perfectly harmonious fate

My heart could have breathed,

No matter how cold I might be,

The most serenely inspiring destiny

My soul could have felt.

Just now, I hold my hands up,

To catch the fluttering stellar dust.

 

 

 

 

 

 

09/23/11 - (3)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 

 
   
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