I watch you rise
out of the foggy banks
of Lake Michigan;
I can see the love
running right
out of you.

It's late winter now,
and the sun isn't shining,
but soon...  

You returned the diamonds;
they weren't precious
at all,
just shards of glass,

This is me at 11.
Scared.
Alone.

The ice is breaking.
I caught a fish yesterday...
Well, almost;
she slipped through my hands.

This is me at 34.
I can still see that boy
or...
at least the idea of him
he's hidden in the fog.