At berths,
one next the other,
sat a yacht and a shell,
a blazer-clad captain and a rower
stripped to the waist,
a have and one who had less,
a division of the spoils of the material world.
And yet I could not help but think
the rower possessed as much as the captain.
For a rower to be content,
all he needs is a shell.
A yacht, surely, would only sink him.
Philip Kuepper
August 2010
Tagged: Philip Kuepper, Rowing Poetry
