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what I call home
November 30, 2022
The lake drags its arms up the beach,
While each step I take leaves a print.
Basking under the sun, in the sand,
Each wave trickles its way up and down the shoreline.
We listen to the splashes that follow from each wave breaking,
Until the sun starts disappearing.
And the moons reappearing.
We pack up our stuff,
And get comfy on the boat.
The wind is blowing our hair and cooling us down, while you hear the splashing from the sides,
A 45 minute drive back to the land where our car awaits for us to be back home.
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This Is called what I call home, It´s a place that when I am there It feels warm and like a home. It´s what I consider home. My poem is talking about lake Michigan because it is somewhere I always am at in the summer and love it.