I slumped into my friend the chair and Waited for sleep to carry me away somewhere While reruns reinforced my nightly monotony. ,
Then the first wind of autumn ran ahead Of its due date and rattled my windows rousing me. I raised up and killed the tv. Soft amber lamp light filled the room And I could hear the low roar of the lake Rolling under the wind.
I got up and opened the door to the deck Then closed it behind me.
The wind carried the lake up to me While the constellations danced through The moonless sky. The glow of Port Stanley rose from The far horizon, between us one of the last Boats of the year struggled against the Wind and waves, making for Detroit.
The moment pulled me out of myself My name was lost, my hopes and desires meaningless; I became the smallest part of the endless night Whose purpose was to be no more than this.
But the chill is more at home here Than a human trespasser; It drove me back toward The mediocrity that sustains me.
One last look across the lake Wondering if a Canadian stands on his Deck wondering about me…