July 1973
Gina Betcher
Sunshine upon the green Lake Erie mirror
our faces yellowed from a fading past
gone barefoot the days along its drift planked stony shore
and cold current of dragging chains and fish smells
where were we to be but called in to wear hooded windbreakers
and join everyone gathered at the picnic table wet wood frame
to eat burgers and beans and potato salad on paper plates
shudder the ice chest closing to hear the tear pop opening of beer can lips
we were drinking sodas, burping and puffing up our stomachs in contest
we were playing a made up game of mimicking adults no one approved of
remember the evening blackened shoreline trees into brutish forms
the pulse of lightning bugs in aerial courting
the carp’s jump through the calm lake surface
point you did in awe
Gina Betcher
Sunshine upon the green Lake Erie mirror
our faces yellowed from a fading past
gone barefoot the days along its drift planked stony shore
and cold current of dragging chains and fish smells
where were we to be but called in to wear hooded windbreakers
and join everyone gathered at the picnic table wet wood frame
to eat burgers and beans and potato salad on paper plates
shudder the ice chest closing to hear the tear pop opening of beer can lips
we were drinking sodas, burping and puffing up our stomachs in contest
we were playing a made up game of mimicking adults no one approved of
remember the evening blackened shoreline trees into brutish forms
the pulse of lightning bugs in aerial courting
the carp’s jump through the calm lake surface
point you did in awe