I've oft coursed my birch canoe
o'er Huron's cold bewitching waves,
wondering of my path, if only I knew,
'twas exact true of her long passed braves.
I've dropped my grateful anchor
aside fetching wild berry groves,
while seeking respite from her rancor
in becalmed rock sheltered coves.
I've stirred my fiery embers to soaring flights
nigh auroral skies 'neath heaven's Pleiades,
thro' the dark silence of her haunting nights
on breezes caressing gnarled Jack pine trees.
I've woken to the mystical cries of loons,
with waves gently sculpting her ancient shore
in the dawning light of ghostly moons,
and begged of her spirits to proffer me more.

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