Blue froth
tossing whitecaps
into furious waves
while wild wind whistles down the beach

On one day, this…

…and another, this. Could it be the same lake?
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I am a retired language arts teacher from Michigan who has published a book of poems. I write poetry in the classic forms. My reading interests are non-fiction, especially in the areas of medicine and spirituality. I am a pianist, and also enjoy word puzzles and games.
June 27, 2012 at 3:22 pm
Moody lake, isn’t it? Wild wind does whistle, doesn’t it?