The Upper Peninsula of Michigan
bore me and raised me years ago this Tuesday.
I celebrate my birth by praising Lake
Superior (my mother), the Keweenaw
(my father), and old forgotten pals who gave
me gifts of thunder storms and rainbow skies.
Sunset friends appear above abandoned mines
waving, and copper smelting ruins reveal
the unaccomplished dreams of yesterday.
I may grow old, but my throat still thirsts for life.
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