We all come from somewhere.
\nI came from the lake,
\nfrom the gray water,
\nfrom the cold of November,
\nthe heavy metal of the cold.
\nThe mist laying like hands on the bay,
\nlong fingers of silver
\nreaching into the gloom.
\nThat is where I come from,
\nbut born in May when the sun returned,
\nwhen the sleeping stopped,
\nwhen the grass was wet and clear
\nby the bay.
\nBy the boats with their white skins,
\ntheir empty holds resounding on the water,
\nwhere my father went
\nand took me with my yellow hair,
\nmy eyes the color of the violet,
\nthe color of my birthday month.<\/p>\n
He took me out on the bay
\nwhere the dark hand of the mist had laid,
\nwhere November turned to ice and darkness
\nuntil I was born,
\nand knew it in the land of the clear water,
\nSandusky.
\nThe land of the panther and wolf,
\nall gone,
\nlike me all these years,
\ngone,
\ngone into summer,
\npast the disappearing suns of my father,
\ninto November where I now live.
\nWith the pale ghost of my mother
\nand the bay
\nstill as the moon,
\ncold as a star.
\nWith my stories all wrapped inside me,
\nwaiting for my long boat,
\nto return to the waters
\nthat nourished me.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
We all come from somewhere. I came from the lake, from the gray water, from the cold of November, the heavy metal of the cold.…<\/p>\n