The smell of malts fills the air
That is reflected off the Michigan waves
Back to the shoreline
To our noses.
The first toes to sand are startled
By squawking seagulls overhead
Who are excited about the sweaty six-pack that’s pulled from my bag.
We’ve travelled far from the smokestacks
To this beach that is shadowed by the resting sun:
Through two rivers and
Miles of anticipation.

Our warming beers and
Our warming backs
Contrast the cool air
Attacking our faces
From the seeming abyss
That spans the horizon
Giving birth to a land
So distant, yet
So similar.

The next caps are pried off
As we both wonder
Whether across the abyss
Two lifelong friends
Are looking back at us.