Anishinaabewi-Gichigami

Every breath might be your last
Look not forward, look not past
Seize the moment hold it fast.

Leave your calendar
for a week without time
on a land marked by eras.

Paddling into the West Wind 
the Old Woman breaths deeply
despite our tobacco tokens
waves breaking over our bows
as the swell slowly builds
yet our sturdy kayaks flit
across the swirling water like
water striders on a mill pond.

Casting the Dog River’s mouth
a silver steelhead seizes my lure
to dance atop the water and
add to tomorrow’s breakfast.

Waking up to a sky full of stars
waves murmuring on the beach
dark waters reaching to infinity.

The wind drops to a zephyr
at our back as the Old Woman
sleeps softly and we glide
across sun speckled water
and reluctantly return to
time marked by hours.



Memories of a week's kayaking on Lake Superior's North Shore.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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Delaney Avatar
April 2, 2021 at 5:26 PM
Wonderful poem. The title drew me in but the gliding thoughts held me enthralled. SuZ
Rodgers Avatar
April 8, 2021 at 9:10 AM
Thanks Suzane
Goldsmith Avatar
August 28, 2020 at 9:33 AM
Congratulations on your win. What a story/poem. Enjoy your win and day................
Rodgers Avatar
August 28, 2020 at 9:55 AM
Thanks Paula
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