World\u2019s end,
\nfrom a shore deserted of all life.
\nRise up, sun, and warm what I see.
\nMy lake, somewhere a hundred miles north,
\nmy home no longer there.
\nWood full of memories.
\nSteps with twilight longing.
\nBushes of pussy willow
\nand the gravel drive.
\nThis is what I see,
\nthis is the candy foam of my youth,
\nmy hands stroking the bark
\nof an apple tree.
\nHands as smooth as ivory,
\nand ears that heard every secret
\nof the wind,
\nand a mouth that tasted the lake
\nin the air.
\nSenses fine tuned as a violin,
\nlegs that could run,
\nback that could bend,
\nand the lovely people,
\nplaying hide-and-seek.<\/p>\n
Where are you, mother?
\nWhere are you, father?
\nWhere are you, brothers and sister,
\nand rain falling warm on the grass,
\nand bicycles spraying up water
\nfrom wheels of silver.
\nWorld\u2019s end,
\nwithout a lighthouse near,
\nor harbor where boats can dock,
\nor walks by the water,
\nwhere you can stand,
\nand see the tirelessness of the lake,
\nand its wand of waves
\nnever ceasing to come ashore,
\nand tell me,
\nTed, nothing is gone.
\nSandusky surrounds the bay,
\nand the boats go out and pull in their dreams.
\nThe theater of old films is there,
\nand the old houses,
\nand the white one where you lived,
\nby the pier
\nwhere your father\u2019s boat is moored,
\nand the world endures.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
World\u2019s end, from a shore deserted of all life. Rise up, sun, and warm what I see. My lake, somewhere a hundred miles north, my…<\/p>\n