Slap Goes the Water

Oars slap the water, a heron shoots a glassy eye keeps fishing by doing nothing. Its early, yet the sun is crashing through the mist intent on warming eggs in lakeside nests. Slap go the oars, splish and a splash, and a clunk-swoosh-gurgle. For a moment there is a white wake then bubbles burble I figure if I row very, very slowly it will be a few minutes before breakfast. By the time I reach the kitchen. you will be dishing out bacon onto a plate and I will be calling for sunny eggs. Oar strokes slap more water, but gently, ever so slow, and gentle.