To Great Lake Schooners
There were no sails today,
I looked
There was nylon on plastic loats
But no canvas
No real ships of yesterday
In great numbers
Moving everything in the tiny world
Of the Lakes.

There were no sails today
Filled with wind
Stretched to breaking by the breeze
From far away
No moaning as they heel over
Heading home
Or crys as storms throw them
Towards shore.

There were no sails today
Telling tales
No stories far and wide for
Them to whisper
A bare horizon, a canvas more or less
Stripped of paint
As they are all left to the memory
Of those who care.

by Peggy Large