Sunday, March 16, 2014
Watching the Emiquon horizon disappear in the mist
of the blustery morning snow,
I think of the life hidden behind the shroud of winter.
Later I look up and the mist has retreated
revealing the familiar line of
river trees surrounding Sister Creeks,
with clouds from the plant eleven miles away at Havana
billowing out over the lake against a dark gray sky.