The Unpronounceable God

We look out
over the calm expanse
of Lake Superior
by the old light house
bleeding red

imagining
what the Native Americans
must have imagined
about
some crazy water god
with 10 syllables in his name
breaking the tide
with 300-year-old breath

our daughter
in your belly
using your bladder
as a beanbag

and the silence is fine

and you are beautiful

with your one gray hair
we both know you have
but don’t mention
and you hate
and I love

and we wait
for that unpronounceable god
to break the tide

and when he does
you turn to me
look into my eyes
smile and say

“I bet bear farts smell awful.”

“Absolutely,” I say

and we hold hands and
walk home

past the old houses

and the big breed dogs

© 2016 Lee Kitzis