Next time let me return
as water
that slowly seeps its way
from marshes and groundwater
into streams beset by dead limbs
but home to freshwater fish
and on whose banks may sit
a girl watching for bass or blue gills
holding a homemade pole.
Let me flow
into the north branch
of the Platt River
that holds rocks but sustains
wide banks and grass-tufted islands
around which I flow
under the shade of ancient trees
providing homes for Wood Ducks
where my shallows of cloudy clay
may be a sacred place
for lost toys or sibling’s ashes.
Let me move downhill
to join other creeks and streams
that together watershed
into Lake Michigan.
Let my shores offer sunlit summer dunes
small enough to shelter
those returning from a cold swim
and large enough to climb
at a 33-degree angle above me.
Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore, Empire, MI
Let my waves wash small shells
driftwood, and bird feathers ashore
to make necklaces or dream catchers
and let them uncover Petoskey
agate and Greenstone and if calm enough
let the flat stones skip along my surface.
Let my banks and open fields
along Betsie River
and nearby creeks be laden
with milkweed, marigolds
coneflowers, and buckwheat
charming honeybees and monarchs
and let me end in a marsh like that
of my childhood -- be ever surrounded
by cattails that danced for my sister and me
in rhythm with the breeze.
Let me be water that holds them
long after they have browned
long after geese have flown.
Kruch Family Farm, West Branch, MI