this ocean placed
like a hand on the prairie
placid today pliant plush with
memory
of fine fine sand sifting
through toes
as we walk and walk through shallows
waves rushing
of driftwood fires
lighting Pat beach on a summer night
of a boardwalk and dance halls
in earlier times
trains shuttling weekenders
for family time
of volunteers building the peers
that line shore every spring
each board finds its place
of fishers cresting waves
catching pickerel and goldeye
of agassiz glacier receding
leaving these basins south and north
and draining half a continent into northern bay
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