Thanks to the Wisconsin Writers Association, I’m grateful to find my poem on p. 41 of the March 2023 Creative Wisconsin Magazine:
Caution appareled, I shudder
to shoulder tasks undone. On city’s
sea, I swim circles on old roads
to keep worry afloat, at bay.
Until a raccoon runs at car:
inscrutable Hari Kiri.
I flee north where Kitchi gami
scatters agates, where copper knives
slipped between strata of northern
lives reveal ancient ways. I sit,
drowse on studded beach. Truth squeaks in,
speaks between layered wake and sleep.
Earlier wisdom reawakes.
Manoomin lured first peoples west,
harvests filled canoes, winter cured.
On rough skerries cormorants called.
Inland, indigenous folk found
spiritual nest with eagles.
Naked in rest, I ride creation’s
crest, slide down a foamy funnel
to dream inside a furling wave.
Lake, land, sky tremble, tumble, mix.
Roar in rhythmic composition.
Shore winds blow genesis. Behold,