The Au Sable

Somewhere to my right,

water trickles

as the river glides between

the branches of fallen trees,

their bodies leaning over the surface

ready to fall,

but a desire to live still thriving.

Somewhere to my left,

I can smell the rich and persistent

scent of my grandfather’s cigar as he

flicks on his lighter,

a bonfire cradled in his hands.

Somewhere downstream,

I can hear distant voices

full of hope and laughter,

yet incoherent;

A soft whisper

over the sounds of life

surrounding our small,

wooden dock

on the Au Sable River.