North Shore
This beach is all sound,
a crescent bay where
boundaries converge—
birch and balsam,
rhyolite and basalt,
pink stone and water.
Opposite forces
layer the shorescape
in waves and shoulders.
Resonance surrounds.
Listening to it sing,
I try to separate voices
in the cacophony but
hear braided together
the tone of the lake’s
liquid muscle and
the timbre of solid rock.
Each tentative step
on such uneven terrain
takes focus and care.
Round stones slide,
tumble perpetually,
crashing surf surges
out of the depths.
Echoes, turbulence
amplify yearning
for profound quiet,
for a walk beyond
our mad divisions
into a vaster space.
Charlotte Melin grew up in Indiana and returns to visit. Retired from the University of Minnesota, she lives in Northfield and has published widely about German poetry, the environmental humanities, and teaching.