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61 Lake Leelanau Goes Still One Day in Fall The ear wants what it hears to rain in language, The rain wants images to puddle, flow, Canoe, thrust paddles through lacustrine looking glass, Shudder, touched, smoothed beyond sigh Once flow wins back clarity, that afterlife That wears its while with absolute unconcern, Ripples ironed out by transparent cease, The oldest memoir of language, fluidity Liquefying sadness, its concentric rings, The lovely roundness of those spoken vowels, The vegetal phonemes alive in meadows, In rooted reveries that obliterate ideals, Here where fishes fly and clouds congress With pebble-cobbled bottom worlds Stocking sky with crappies, trout, and bass, Undulations leveling to bluest pupil, Lappings lulled to inaudible lullaby, Glide of last spring’s goslings grown to geese, Windexed cessation of windrow waves, Glacial sorrows melted, the bewilderments, Even the slightest, even the most garrulous Frog’s gargoyle consonants gobbled up, Gutter-mouthed gutturals, gusts and gales Gone to glaze, an aimless, amiable gaze, 62 The furies flatlined to catoptromancy, Calm and compromise materialized, Leavetaking leaves loosened from leasehold Mirrored, and carried by their own reflections. ...

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