Wayfinder

Smiles of Marigolds Dipped in Marmalade Poetry Anthology

WAYFINDER

When I feel restless, I go to the lake.
The breaks of blue, slight and stormy
mend my soul when no Vivaldi concerto
or chicken noodle soup can tranquilize.

Her rhythm whispers breathe, my shoulders
drop, gaze softens. A blanket of comfort
woven in white foam, Mother Nature’s pacifier
is my Lake Michigan. Compass confident,

her ease rims the city from the east, holding
my hand on the bus downtown, I feel her. Still,
I am inattentive. So I, along with others, return
to the lake. Peace is glorious yet short-lived.