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PORTAGE LAKE SKY
THE PLEASURE OF BEING
I didn’t drown yesterday
in that pool of discard, a
garage sale vendor’s heap
Not to say that the swim
wasn’t nice, diving for
treasures in smelly boxes,
and tables of basement debris
hopeful for a new home, a
new beach to lay rest to.
When in the later of the day
a dip in the lake to wash
the jettison off my skin
To feel the real swell of moist
under the Sun’s blaze,
with no reminisce of
anything other than the
deep of this lake and the
discard of mindless things
that crowd the pleasure of
Being.