She’s from the Baltic seaside
Where the green waves
Come from the west, from Sweden
The waves roll in, white-capped
Taller than everyone there
And crash onto the smooth, flat beach
On the wet sand, if you look,
She says you’ll find grains
Of golden amber
She lives here now
Flew here years ago
In search of something
She tells me
She found it
When she found me
Here near the Great Lakefront
Where the gray waves
Come from the east, from Michigan
The swells move in, gray
Taller than no one (usually)
And whoosh onto the pebbly, rough beach
Just under the wet sand, don’t look
You’ll find particles, I say,
Of black coal ash
But on sunny, calm days the Great Lake
Is turquoise-blue and jade-green
And beautiful enough
To remind her
Of Palanga and Sventoji
And her visits with her mom and sisters
Beautiful enough to get her through
The next couple years
Until she takes me with her
Back to the seaside
To be with everyone she loves
At the same time
Jim's Writing 