The sun has started to set,
I rest on my oars
a couple of hundred yards
from shore. The dory-skiff,
and I hanging in mid air,
floating on the still, clear Lake.
I have put this moment off,
the weather has been so fine
this deep into November.
But morning's this week
have meant rowing through breaking ice:
time now to pull her up.
The locks creek as I give way
I am in no hurry.
I am in no hurry but the rhythm
of the oars, and the
quality of my craft
carries me along
swiftly, too swiftly
on the years last row
stepping along lightly
to the boat house where
the boys and I will haul her out,
wash the hull down, and
put her on the rack
for winter.
Ten yards from the boathouse
I pivot and make off…
The sun tells me that there is
time for one more pass
over Kelly’s Rock, then
round behind the Two Birches
before we hang these oars
in the rafters…
Enjoyed this last row with you, fortunately all you got to do is rinse her down and store her for the winter...no bleeding fuel lines, no pumping out bilges, no bleeding water coolant lines, thankfully you do NO WINTERIZING...you are lucky...Ed
Reviewed by Kate Clifford (Reader)
Reviewed on November 17, 2005
A true man of the waters :-) Loved the atmosphere that you built in this write.
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