a beautiful way to travel by water

after so much watching, so much complaining , not dipping my hands. her endless falling, folding over herself, her lanky legs and murmurs overpowered me.

never have I seen water so calm so sarcastic. her sly sneer looking down at me. winter keeping her crooked blue waistline from me, her moods shy and mercurial. never have I climbed her sharp shoulders or brushed cold cheeks and never would I have thought ice climbing would be such a beautiful way to travel by water



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Under The Burn of Going Without


All year long my skin whitened under the burn of going without. -No travel in the most beautiful and aesthetic vehicle I know -no slap of wave against it’s hull -no satin surface to carve with the wood of paddle -no taste of that freedom only a river or lake affords -only obligations and responsibilities ate at any true sense of that freedom

until i went alone

the big boisterous sky ahead

under a hot mid-October sun

on a rocky outcropping

in a Thermarest with

a beer

and a smoke

above the lip of Lake Umbagog

my skin ripening

my legs crossed

the wave against rock

discussing their fears

of the weakening economy

the ignited hills above

gesturing towards the south

its orange airline traffic lights waving

the lone kayak passing by

complimenting the earth on her choice of weather

the tandem canoe in the distance clearly loafing in the sun

the bow adrift in no direction

the sequence skirt of the lake’s surface

showing off her goods

and my eyes when closed

were starry against the bright red

of that smoldering day

hot enough for a swim