let him sit on the beach
my uncle in his lawn chair
that folds like a stork
aluminum and shredded
blue webbing glass of Labatts
in his hand
let him unreel
the past on the waves psalms
pastures and lilies
the cosmos blooming stargazing
a blur he almost can feel made one
with what he is seeing lake
and the line between water and sky
let him hum without tune
he spools thin lines of bliss
as if fishing
hitching this place to the quiet
promise of peace geography’s
comforting shape
this bluish-brown water this meniscus
parasol sky moving unmoving
unhurried as pre-historical time
let him memorize
the lake’s surface find
in what he sees there
something that mends