When I was eight or nine,
I took a trip up north with my brother, my father
And my uncle
We woke up early and packed bagged lunches
And cans of pop into a cooler,
And drove to a canoe rental in Mesick
We split up in two canoes
I imagined us as Lewis and Clark,
Charting acres of unspoiled land
As the Manistee opened up like a canvas
We crawled at a slow, lazy pace
And reached the landing as the sun began to slide
Behind the horizon,
And pulled our boats ashore
It was still warm and we were exhausted
So we jumped into the water to cool off,
As my uncle launched into a speech
About the history of the Petoskey stone
And how rare it would be to find any here
Then he reached into the river bed
And pulled one out on his very first try
We spent the rest of our time trying to find another one
But came up empty-handed
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