Copyright 2012 by Kenneth Van Camp, all rights reserved.
I
almost didn't go sailing today.
The
sun was too hot,
And
the wind was light,
And
an insistent IRS 1040 was blocking my way.
But
I heard in my yard the whisper, the pleading,
Of
a halyard slap
And
a pennant flap,
And
a sail getting creased from being folded too tight, instead needed
sheeting.
So
I rolled out Bright
Eyes
and put the hitch on,
Loosened
the chains
But
held tight the reins
As
off we went to Lake
Nockamixon.
O
crystalline waters! O gentle embrace!
Cool
water on skin
Bringing
blood from within,
O
how did we 'ere stay so long from this place?
We
set full all cloth to catch a miserly breeze,
With
no destination,
No
schedule to meet,
And
an elderly mallard outpaced us with ease.
Round
the point then easily canter,
A
meandering tour
Of
the opposite shore
To
the unsteady rhythm of a bullfrog's banter.
How
measure the hours, whether surging or lulled,
Of
a boat and her rider
And
a feeling inside her,
A
fullness procrastination foretold?
We
almost didn't go sailing today.
Almost
missed the gentle laughter
Of
what the egret had sought after,
Almost
missed the wispy clouds
Drifting
slowly past our shrouds,
But
we didn't – instead my Bright
Eyes
had the final say.
