A canoe lay abandoned
on the beach - - I could sense
adventure caused that keel
to flounder from the thrill of heavy
waves pounding against its hull:
the fury of wind directing
a course, sterns man pointing the craft
directly into the thrust
of foamy crests, guiding it to safer
rest, parallel to shore
and the loons departing as
it came sifting through muddy
waters as a ship of yore
seeking the promise of land,
determined to ride
the next ripples to safe haven.
I pass by this memory now
razed by the sun, baked
dry to driftwood size gunnels
worn thwarts rotted through
and insides where bended
knees once caressed the wood.
Such pride upon a wake
ending as memories, glad
I am to share the view before
passing this way again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A lovely poem...cute one