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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