by lake huron

(12-29-1997 rewritten 9-6-2015)

the winter comes with icy breath
to chill me to my very bone
i walk beside the roiled lake
and know that i am truly here alone

for who believes what i have said?
who waits for me the lake beside?
the winter kills whoe’er it can
with seasonal affective

(a third reworking of an [utterly unrecognizable] old prose piece)

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2 Thoughts to “by lake huron

  1. If I didn’t have the ocean in winter — some open moving body of water — I’d go bananas.

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