I want to sit
on the shores of Georgian Bay
Sunny days
calm days or
full of wind and grey
Whitecaps and swells or
waves so sly
you hear the hissing sand complain
as each drop squeezes by
Days in damp suits and clinging sand
my burning soles seeking a place to land
Days with hood tied tight under my chin
Beer-cold water daring me to come in
Sitting and sitting
fingers siftingsifting sand
eyes on horizon
ears tuned to gullsong
Nose seeking sun-baked jack pine
And surprise
When my tongue licks my lips
And there’s no taste of salty sea.