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Lake Champlain
Joseph Veronneau
Over by “the point”
teens jump awkward
holding legs inwards,
hoping not to bash their skulls
on the risen rocks below.
Wind blowing in from the West,
towel-less skin shivers
as spiders cram the woods
behind.
Off in the distance
people glide in canoes
sifting out from the pines
that hid them.
Head-first dives
off of granite platforms
casting selves as offerings
to mossy rocks and animals
who could not finish their trek.
It was made into one of the Great Lakes
to receive federal funding
to clean it up,
then uncrowned of all its glory
once the job was done.
Teens still spiral
to near deaths
under summer constellations
releasing sweat.