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Copper Harbor

The rising sun - Copper Harbor's canvas
White pine and stalwart cedar hold
to the shadows of the retreating night

In the harbor,
a slight breeze captures a wisp of my hair-
Trying to tame it, I tuck it behind my ear

A Black-eyed Susan winks at me - I stare back
Is it the sound of the waking day or
the smell of lavender that caused
the release of my sigh?

Too soon reality returns, then
this harbor will become a memory

For now, Old Glory clangs in the wind
as I watch an orange sherbet sunrise.


Tom Aitken said...

Cool! Sounds like a great place!

Mary said...

Beautiful poem and photo. I am wondering if you live in Wisconsin.


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