28 August 2022
By Philip Kuepper
‘Red rowboat, red rowboat,
how you protest
against the water which you cross,
your loud outboard
ripping the water with wake,
lifting your bow high
in defiance of the otherwise
quiet. (I note
the sailboat you pass,
not a sound emanating
from it, full sail.)
Red rowboat, red rowboat,
what a rebel you are,
your blood high,
aclamor against what?
Ah! Just then you die
in to elegant quiet, your outboard shut off.
Red rowboat, red rowboat,
having found a place to fit,
as you slip into your slip,
meant for you to find, and anchor.’
(14 August 2022)
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The Rhyme of the Red Rowboat
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