A Lake Called Michigan


As I stand on the edge of the waters of the rushing
and rustling waves, I feel as though I'm in another
world. The cars, the noise, and all the smells of the city
streets all lie behind me now. I have exchanged them all
for the cool and constantly moving surface of blue
and greens that stretches in front of me as far as
my eyes can see.
The smell of the lake air is so invigorating to me
that every breath is like a natural high.
Watching the ceaseless battering of the waves,
and the unending rise and fall of the tide,
this is where the land meets the Great Lake called...
Michigan.
As I feel the westerly wind upon my face, it wisps down
every pore of my body, cleansing it from all the impurities
of inner-city activities and existence.
Just as the water races its way up the shoreline in
sheets of foam, it washes and rushes back into the lake,
constantly rearranging the sands as it reshapes the contour
of its shoreline. this is the Great Lake called Michigan.

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