Up North

Our canoe cuts through the water.
Though the water is over-taken with lily-pads and weeds,
we take the clear, thin channels through.
Our guide comments on small matters
as we move along.
The lake is calm and quiet,
and you can hear the water lapping against the canoe.
We're up north Wisconsin near Canada
and the country is thick and green.
Along the banks, Nature hums and buzzes.
I sit back and cast over and over,
the line unwinding from my reel in a silent zing.
A small wooden paddle moves us along
through a shallow connecting water
strewn with flowing willows
slanting in the wind.
Looking into the dark water,
you see slow moving weeds
where the overhead sun lays down.

The sun begins to set
orange and red on the dark, still water.

Our wooden canoe glides along.

All the future that lies ahead
is halted in talk of the past.

We are just sunburnt fishermen
tired in the weavings of life.

Thin Rays of Light

Early morning coffee.
Sun rises faintly over the hills.
The home is quiet and still--
all but the wind blowing through leaves.
I watch the trees outside wave in unison
as steam rises off my coffee.
The soul yearns for something more,
though the day has just begun,
as thin rays of light break through the sky.

Childhood Friends

We were all great friends.
Past the wooden dock
the green lake spread out for miles
to another coast you couldn't see.
In the deep south, it was mid-afternoon,
the sun hot up in the sky.
Some were in the house sleeping it off,
some were in the metal boat fishing,
some on the dock listening to the radio announcers.
We had all grown up with each other,
going through life's great mystery and it's drama.

We nearly destroyed one another in its war.

And on this Independence Day, we celebrated,
though our time was short we knew.
We knew memories were to be made,
and we lived on the brink of nostalgia.

A red sun went down under the trees.
Like in early morning, our thoughts were free and clear.
Into the night, we made way for a new dawn.