Melinda LePere

Peche Island, Detroit River
November 1^st, Between Shores
                                   
The rise of the moon,
orange and full, grants
last night for the last boat
so we step
onto this feral island.
Beetles, powdered to paprika dust,
season shell-crusted shore.
In the knotted grove,
swallowed shadows,
masked in taloned bark,
mediate with the dead,
whisper, mercy.
Tonight we feed
on color from leather leaves
snaking in the wind,
on the uncanny secrets
of a naked house
afloat in the forest.
Unbounded by reason
or tranquility,
breathe the mist of sated beast
that tangles the embrace
of water and air.
River, indigo hide lolling
oily and lax, and Sky,
stretching cool and spent -
their long throated tongues
lap the darkness. Their bodies
steam the shore.
We are home
among true companions:
the rutting mates,
a black-cloud raven,
and the white bear moon
awake and tracking prey.



Also from Melinda LePere:
Detroit Christening

Contributor Bio

Melinda LePere, is published in the anthology At the Edge of Mirror Lake, The MacGuffin and Paterson Review. She holds an MFA from Vermont College. As a DPS elementary teacher she promoted poetry, puppets and Family Poetry Nights. Now retired, she is still at sea in Detroit.