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Lesson 68

I was at this stony beach seceding
to Lake Superior with some friends, too busy
taking pictures to truly appreciate
the sheer magnitude of this body of water,
blue beyond despair, in front of us. So, I moved away:
walking, walking, walking, until I was up
to a sort of cliff, overlooking a portion
of the lake, so clear, I thought I could see
into the mouth of some monster that surely
held reign underneath, that’s how dark it was.
That thought soon passed but what didn’t
was the sense of wonderment at being
there, on that stony beach, looking out
to Lake Superior, in all its magnitude, peering
with what eyes I have to the distant horizon
where the water kissed the sky. I sat down and felt
the stone, that must’ve been a hundred years old,
kiss the back of my jeans, and felt the virgin dirt
that only wind had ever played with before.

I didn’t feel anything:
except wonder.
I didn’t feel anything:
except despair,
knowing
that I would go,
in an hour and so,
and live what little life
is my lot.
One day I’d forget.
One day I’d die.
But the stone, the sand, the dirt, and the lake
would outlast me.
Have you ever wondered what happened
to that piece of gunk underneath your eye
that you picked and flicked? No, right?

I hope you know what I mean.

Poetry by Sameen