The paddle and
I
Alone, on my
own
Out in the
middle of
The churning
lake.
The wind
pushed the bow
Turning me
around.
I pitched into
the wind,
Back erect,
leaning
Against the
blow,
Wanting home
Warmth,
comfort
Making for
shore.
The paddle, 24
years old,
Fit
comfortably in my palm
Familiar
pressure, angle and form
The varnish
worn and cracked.
The shaft and
handle darkened
With my sweat,
dirt, and age.
The blade
narrow for river work
As it was on
the Allagash
Split and
chipped
From years of
use.
A treasured
momento
Of a wonderful
trip.
The waves broke
and pitched.
The canoe
moved
Like a cork on
the water.
Paddle left,
back paddle right.
The splash of
the tawny water
As I fought to
gain control.
Progress slow
but real
Cutting along
the edge of shore
Easy to
measure
Foot by foot.
Away from
shore again
Buffeted by
the air once more.
Still an hour
from home
Muscles taut
And cramped
Torso twisted
Fighting the
storm
As I contort
To steer my
canoe.
Edited May 4, 2013
“Wind – v2”
July 9, 2000
“Wind”
on Swain’s Lake
Barrington, NH
+43° 11' 24.91", -71° 2' 30.18"
&
edited August 21,
2015
Breaking Camp
– v7
(editing
version 3)
edited July
18, 2015
Breaking Camp
– v6
(editing
version 5)
edited April
21, 2015
The Skin of
the Lake – v7
(editing
original)
edited April
21, 2015
Breaking Camp
– v5
(editing
original again)
edited April 19, 2015
The Skin of the Lake – v6
(editing original again)
edited April
17, 2015
The Skin of
the Lake – v5
(editing
version 4)
edited
April 16, 2015
Flowing
North – v4
(editing
version 3)
edited April
16, 2015
the spell of
the night – v3
(editing
version 2)
edited
April 16, 2015
Under
the Stars – v3
(editing
version 2)
edited
April 16, 2015
The
Ledges – v5
(editing
version 4)
edited
April 15, 2015
Breaking
Camp – v4
(editing
version 3)
Edited May 4,
2013
“The Skin of
the Lake – v4
Edited
February 23, 2013
“The Skin of
the Lake – v3”
Edited
February 23, 2013
“The Skin of
the Lake – v2”
July 28, 2010
“The Skin of
the Lake”
-----
edited
April 16, 2015
The
Ledges – v5
(editing
version 4)
edited May 2,
2013
“the spell of
the night – v2”
new poem,
February 23, 2013
“the spell of
the night”
&
Edited
February 23, 2013
“The Skin of
the Lake – v3”
Edited
February 23, 2013
“The Skin of
the Lake – v2”
July 28, 2010
“The Skin of
the Lake”
&
Edited
May 4, 2013
“Under
the Stars – v2”
July
19, 2007 21:28
“Under
the Stars”
&
edited
April 14, 2014
“Breaking
Camp – v3”
(editing
original again)
Edited
May 4, 2013
“Breaking
Camp – v2”
November
23, 2006 18:00
“Breaking
Camp”
&
edited
December 7, 2014
Free
Time – v3
edited
May 28, 2014
Free
Time – v2
posted
May 24, 2004
Free
Time
saved
March 26, 2004
&
Edited
November 2, 2013
“The
Ledges – v4”
Edited
May 4, 2013
“The
Ledges – v3”
Edited
September 20, 2012
“The
Ledges – v2”
editing
the original again
inspired by
reading it at Poets’ Corner
monthly poetry
reading,
at the Suncook
Senior Center
September 10,
2012
“The Ledges”
Written
July 14, 2000.
It
is based on a single night in the summer of 1977 when I was part of a group
from Claremont's Stevens High School that canoed the Allagash in northern
Maine.
Allagash
Wilderness Waterway
&
It
was the third and final major canoe trip I went on (Saco River in 1975 starting
in Fryeburg, ME, Allagash in 1976-July-ish when it was warmer and slower). This
trip was earlier, in May, when the water ran faster and the time was spent
moving down river with the flow of the river. Nights were a lot cooler and the
food was a lot different. Many of us had bad hypothermia the first night
because it was a cold rain and none of us had unpacked our bags to pull out the
foul weather gear. I remember well having to strip off all of my cold wet
clothes and sharing a sleeping bag with another camper. The night written about
here started innocently enough. We arrived at this particular campsite on Eagle
Lake (or Churchill Lake) earlier than normal, because of the river's current.
We all set up each tent and set the dinner fire going. I think it was fried
bologna. We all turned in early. We were tired. The moon rose before 11. There
were ants and black flies everywhere. One of the campers had to sit by the fire
at each campsite to ward off the black flies. Anyway, one by one we all
realized we weren't going to sleep any more that night. Before am, we were all
pacing around, uneasy. The leaders all agreed to put out for the next camp. We
weren't in any rush at am though. This was the way I felt about this night.
After we put in mid morning at the next site, I remember the wonderful brook
trout we caught and I can still taste it, twenty-three years later. I think
these times, when I was moving from Massachusetts to New Hampshire, when I was
canoeing the Saco and then the Allagash were some of the happiest of my high
school days. On the 1976 trip, from Massachusetts, I found the canoe paddle I
wrote about in the poem "Wind" I always talked about going back to
the Allagash; but I have never gone back. It wasn't until 22 years later that I
finally got my canoe again.
All of my
poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005,
2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015. All rights
reserved. Contact me at Ray
Foss for usage. See all 38,980+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
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