I watch the mist move
like a silent magician’s
wand across the water.
The hills of Leelanau
vanish into vaporous
waves of white veils.
A wet ghost drapes
his soppy sheets
upon me and
the sapphires
of lake and sky.
Encasing us all.
SPEAK FOR THE LAND Temples of sacred rock Templates of sequestered ravines Treasures of seasonal ren...
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A week ago one of my former students posted on Facebook a video of the choir he now directs singing, “How Can I Keep From Singing?” (Robe... -
Growing up we drove up north for a one week summer vacation. Whether it was a tiny cinder block rented cottage or a tent plopped on a sta...
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