Bird Lake Morning

Bird Lake Morning

How can it be Friday when yesterday was Sunday?
How can I write a poem about a lake
When what I want is to row into
The middle of that lake and
Let the current take the helm
And float, float, float like
Human driftwood to whatever
Shore the current commands
But I know I must make
The current
Must be my own current
And the steer the boat toward the
River that feeds this
Lake and set the oars
Into the gunnels and row
Back against the current
Fighting through it,
Making the hard journey,
Rowing, rowing, rowing,
Oars slicing, dipping, thrashing,
Until exhaustion overcomes
My aching arms and shoulders
And the current takes me
Back to the lake, where I
Must take to the oars
Again. And again. And again.
Me against the current
Until I build the strength
To row myself
Back home.

By | 2016-09-05T15:56:33+00:00 September 5th, 2016|Bad Poems|0 Comments

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