Summer

I've had the privilege of growing up and living in West Michigan, near the sandy shores of a rather large lake, dotted with resort towns like South Haven, Douglas/Saugatuck, Holland, Grand Haven and on up to Pentwater and Ludington. Scattered along the shore are public beaches, piers and lighthouses, cottages single or in clusters.

The "Big Lake" provides scenes of early morning stillness, awesome and ever unique sunsets and so much more in between. This poem combines a cluster of my memories in imagining taking a week or two off and just chilling.

Summer

I find myself dreaming of faded shorts
and lakeside cottages snug together
walking between on old cement walks
edged by tall random weeds and buzzing bees
concrete fading into speckled white sand

I am free because it is morning with nowhere else to go
but the water's shore with it's rippled surface and
scattered gulls and half buried driftwood logs
which has called me to visit before breakfast
and the shower which I just might forget about

Later there will be time to find the little local stand
where one might acquire a steamed dog, warm moist
bun topped with cheese and onions and ketchup for me
or spicy original recipe chili for her
but for now I am quite alone, toes splashing to a lazy rhythm

Back at our rental there are a few books that might get read
a Weber grill that will be fired up once or twice more, family
that is coming and fresh picked corn that needs to be husked
and a large steel water filled tub waiting to greet my sandy feet
which haven't seen my shoes for three whole days