Green Canoe

I don’t often get the chance any longer
to go out alone in the green canoe
and, lying in the bottom of the boat,
just drift where the breeze takes me,
down to the other end of the lake
or into some cove without my knowing
because I can’t see anything over
the gunwales but sky as I lie there,
feeling the ribs of the boat as my own,
this floating pod with a body inside it …

also a mind, that drifts among clouds
and the sounds that carry over water—
a flutter of birdsong, a screen door
slamming shut—as well as the usual stuff
that clutters it, but slowed down, opened up,
like the fluff of milkweed tugged
from its husk and floating over the lake,
to be mistaken for mayflies at dusk
by feeding trout, or be carried away
to a place where the seeds might sprout.

Jeffrey Harrison

CultFit Alone

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4 Comments on “Green Canoe”

  1. bgddyjim says:

    Here’s my remembrance of the canoe: drifting down the tranquil river, allowing the current to take us where it may… All of a sudden the song birds are drowned out by my wife’s shrieking about our being out of position, heading for a log. Incessant complaints, moaning – all followed by a willful neglect of paddling etiquette.

    Now, the single person kayak story is a little more uplifting… LOL!!!

    • CultFit says:

      Mate, this past weekend my lovely wife threatened my life, challenged my somewhat questionable navigation skills and pleaded for us to return to land. In a canoe of course! Little dude and I were having a blast, so oh well, right?!? Man, the can of worms we could open having this discussion …


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