What I remember
of that day in September
is the Canadian shore line
drifting away to the North.
The warm sun and the rafters
of the ferry as it lumbered
southward, plying the waters,
widening the distance encumbered.
Green and gold on the tree line,
still shades of autumn, the hint
of coming winter still vague.
The horn sounded farewell as it widened the wake,
and set off on its great voyage across the lake.