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Monday, January 10, 2011

#10 Lives In The Crotch Of The Mitten

On the shores of Saginaw Bay

Gravelly Shoals blinks steady

Where as a child I did play

The air fresh and heady

The Perch they sang nightly

Of depths and darkness deep

As they swam by my dock

Voices mild and meek

Small stones underfoot

Treasures to be found

Seaglass here, petosky there

Eyes focused on the ground

Wind from the South

Meant mighty waves crashing

On the shoreline always changing

Sands shifting from the water’s smashing

The baby trees planted by grandpa

Are almost all gone now

Time, and the axe

Giving them their final bow

Springtime meant opening things up

Summer meant fun growing up

The fall was time to shutter

And winter was no time at all.

Softly white and secret

Not a soul in sight

My fire crackled brightly

As the ice sang a saw bow song

It’s where I first left home

It’s where I fell in love with my wife

There’s no place I’d rather roam

For the rest of my life.

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