Lake Apostrophe

Blue thumb of water,

make me a high-seas sailor

among the pines and corn flats.

Fool me into smelling sea salts

instead of snow melt and Chicago.

Steal the shore from my eyes.

Call in the gulls.

Embolden your waves with the

boom of the ocean

and draw adventure up through my bones.

Shine my face with sea-burn

and send me home happy,

a man with the sea on his sleeve.