Jen @ 17

There is Jen at 17,
standing alone on a Lake Michigan dune,
listening to the hush and mumble of waves.

The slightest breath of June
teases her long, dark hair,
and the sun settles
a score with Wisconsin.

She presses her palms together,
then opens them.

This is when she releases 37 seconds--
soft & quiet as cottonwood fleece
drifting from light to shadow.

This is when she sings a song
that won't be written for 20 years.

There is Jen at 17,
dune dancing and last-chancing youth.

One by one,
the street lights of Lake Shore Drive
begin to bloom.