Through The Altostratus

A pale and weakened light fights to be seen through the altostratus
It’s a few shades brighter out in the middle of the lake
Almost dog piss yellow near the distant horizon
That light rests on an endless bank of sea smoke laid out across the big lake
It would take a herring gull more than eighty flight miles to reach it and return
The diminished rays in its middle offer a brief sense of hope

Then fade back to gray and with them a pull back to melancholy
They leave a slight foreboding and a caution in their vacuum 
This expanse of emptiness conjures a baritone choir of long dead mariners 
A shanty from the lost Seamen of Superior moaning a dirge 
More of a warning than the seduction call of their Siren sisters

An infinite army of continuous and tired waves storm the beach and then retreat as the pebbles and stones chase them back to the sea

Standing alone, silent and cold I study the colors like a painter and survey the sawtooth coast 
A curious gull screeches hello and decides to join me 
She lands near the shore, spreads out her wings and looks up to me just as a single glorious ray burns a far away hole through the cheesecloth sky
A million brilliant and blinding sparkles are coughed up by the lake and echoed by the wind with its efforts
I watch the sun continue to fight its way to the front of the line as it struggles to rip a hole across the vast cold rolled sky 
Thanks to the suns exertion hope returns and the lake seems a bit kinder now 
I can’t feel its warmth but I marvel at its radiance 
Full of gratitude I take a mental Polaroid and wish the gull well as I move on to the possibilities