Dirty looking foaming wake
like scum ridden giants’ shaving detritus.
Nimble water sprites flashing and
turning with aerial manoeuvres.
Metallic dragonflies alighting
to mate with each other in a flurry
of artistic movements.
I sit mesmerised as we reach
Harte Miller Island,
weigh anchor, and all is at peace.
Time just for us to be.
Two days to talk and dream,
to practise before a longer trip.
Two souls out on the water,
long years between us.
To begin to know each other again.
Wait, we are invaded!
Deer fly in their hundreds, biting
drawing blood, no way to get rid of them.
Misery, they mar the days...
we leave early still much unsaid,
but enough to know we will go on
to another two day run before
the marathon six day trip.
But we know –
Jean A Isherwood- Farley
July 2009 Baltimore
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