The Wake

In the Porcupine Mountains
in the upper peninsula of Michigan
the autumn air is already seeping
into the leaves.
I see Hoffmaster,
the pioneer of this place, pressing his palm
against the cool rock at my feet.
He slowly washes his eyes
with the sunlight coming off
Lake of the Clouds.
The trees shudder in the wind and
I see him
drift over the cliff
crumbling into the jagged bluffs below.