A Walk Through The Upper Peninsula

I want to stand on the cobble strewn shore of Gitche Gummee
I want to gaze upon dark foreboding waters as the wind howls
I want to scream at the gale as my hair dances in all its silver

I want to walk the red pine needled banks of the Two-Hearted River
I want to see his face and smell the booze on Hemingway’s breath
I want so see his sad eyed look In the orange pekoe tea colored water

I want to breathe the air of Hiawatha, his brethren, his children
I want to walk where Algonquin men, women and children trudged
I want to taste its sandy moss strewn soil with my feet in a summers walk

I want to watch it come alive after a winters deep, hushed, white sleep
I want to gaze upon Pictured Rocks where Gods paint brush exploded
I want to hear secrets whispered through the tall quiet pines and firs

I want to sit by the waters of the Tahquamenon feel it rushing by like a train
I want to watch its stained white veil cascading into a foaming boil below
I want to revel in the silence, the cool crisp air, the desolation, the beauty

I want to walk on padded paw along deserted night streets like a feral cat
I want to share the Lake Michigan's shores deserted with me and me alone,
I want to gaze upon its blue waters below that are the color of Gods' eyes