all this and more
by Kathryn Almy

        not much sleep, but all-you-can-
want sunrises, northern air,
Skip-bo, wild blueberries, evening
walks, and Labatt’s around the fire
        a good chance of aching
muscles from kayaking
to the point with no one else
in sight, a light burn/reminder
to use sunscreen next time,
some misplaced barefoot steps
on something sharpish,
and sore ribs from laughing
like you haven’t in almost forever
with these same four cousins
        guaranteed sand
in everything, too much fried
chicken and ice cream,
and somewhere inside, that twist
of knowing you’re alive
and how soon all this will end—
all this except the waves
from the horizon coming on and on

PHOTOGRAPH: The author (right) and her brother at Lake Huron in northern Michigan.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Kathryn Almy’s poetry and essays have appeared in several print and on-line publications, including Silver Birch Press’s self-portrait poetry series, City of the Big Shoulders: A Chicago Poetry Anthology, The Smoking Poet, and Great Lakes Review’s narrative map, where she has written about her favorite place in the world in northern Michigan. Her family has been vacationing at the same beach on Lake Huron for over 80 years. Visit her on the web at