Raymond Luczak, Winter 2017

Two Poems by Raymond Luczak

On Docks Off Eagle Harbor
Raymond Luczak

In the east, the moon rises
a contained ball of flame.

Winds surf the anxious waves
and around the lonely docks.

Unfamiliar stars tip their toes
in the vast lake of night.

Stale clouds coat the lighthouse
blinking its tired pulse.

The moon arches even higher
on the ladder with each minute.

The north leaks a faint light,
an unsettling of ghosts long past.

Isle Royale is a shadow,
trees unshaven in the swath.

Sprinkles of water thunder Continue reading “Raymond Luczak, Winter 2017”

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