Lawren Harris. Clouds, Lake Superior. 1923. [Source: Wikipedia]
One of many poems written on the beach at Whitefish Bay, Lake Superior, where I yearn to return like a migrating loon.
Whitefish Bay 1990
My love sweeps a circle
through the night. I can see it
like the light at Whitefish Point.
It is apprehended more than seen,
the threshold of sight is one candle
at thirty miles, the horizon curves
at seventeen. I stand on the beach
and wait for it to swing around
again. Its interval is uncharted,
ancient and arrhythmic. Its pulse
stutters like a binary star.