Huron Shores

Greying skies  
An approaching storm  
darkens fens  
on Huron shores  
 
Lonely cedars  
in a sea of grass and rush
Dots of colour  
tiny orchids,  
bladderwort
paintbrush  
 
They bear the brunt
Wind, rain, snow  
from far across the lake
 
Sentinel cedars
Clinging to tiny hummocks  
Battered  
a lifetime of storms  
Sturdy, stunted trees  
Standing corpses  
eroded by the lake’s power  
Dead branches, stripped of bark  
Bleached white  
Stabbing from trunks  
like sharpened bones  
Scars of fallen branches  
pockmark trunks
 
Sparse tufts of green
A sign that a few
endure
 
My eyes will always remember  
The wild beauty  
of Huron shores