Lake of the Woods

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toes amid
pebbles

shell white

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Pro Tiller Smoker Craft

Mercury motor

family of three aboard—
solitary bobbing pelican

odd vertical spike in its bill.

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mostly blighted jack pine through here—

but behind site 55

a whole host of gleaming birch trees

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bill of cap, bifocal line,

flapping shirt wings,

one foot, then the other

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two hollow places on your neck

where your spine joins your skull—

your evil spots—

death will be someone massaging

your evil spots for all eternity

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sojourners waiting for life to end, 
life nothing but a stumbling-block—

meanwhile make poems, observe birds

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stamping footprints into this wet
sand—fun game—
waves washing them away

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brackish sand caked above breakers—

date scratched in—

6-20-17

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all valuable lumber removed

miserable scrub forest—

may heaven send a cleansing spark!