postcard from michigan (august 1, 2009)

(front)

Sliver of bright burning fuschia sneaks through grey plus white puffy, thick pillows as the lake tosses and trips below.

(back)

The wind pushed through me today as I stood atop the bluff. Pushed and threw me as I watched the gulls float instead of fly even though they pushed to move through; the wind pushed back as they soared in one place. Like me with feet planted, no grounded as I soar with each push and pull, as I float while grounded.