To Great Lake Schooners There were no sails today, I looked There was nylon on plastic loats But no canvas No real ships of yesterday In great numbers Moving everything in the tiny world Of the Lakes. There were no sails today Filled with wind Stretched to breaking by the breeze From far away No moaning as they heel over Heading home Or crys as storms throw them Towards shore. There were no sails today Telling tales No stories far and wide for Them to whisper A bare horizon, a canvas more or less Stripped of paint As they are all left to the memory Of those who care. by Peggy Large