I grew up on the shores of Lake Ontario.
but close enough that when my mum and dad came home from work,
we might pack a few cold cuts,
some fresh bread, potato salad,
a thermos of coffee, another of KoolAid,
and head to the beach for supper and a swim.
I remember two things: sometimes we took our cat Peter who thought he was a dog,
and there was a large shrub where I liked to have my meals.
I wedged myself into its branches and ate my mother’s potato salad from a Tupperware bowl, pretending I was a castaway on a desert island.
I’m still drawn to lakes, to desert isles, to pretending and to potato salad,
though I notice there are fewer shrubs that I fit neatly into.