Thursday, May 2, 2013

Kayaking (NaPoWriMo 30)

My paddle slaps the water
With a sloppy kiss.
Droplets fly rapidly through the air;
My kayak shifts.
Ducks paddle alongside my mast
And turtles bath on warm stones.
A sort of peace
Covers this watery land.
Trees crowd in on the creek
And algae is visible on the bottom.
Fish dart by my craft
And the sun smiles sweetly at us all.
I am kayaking through a land of grace:
White rock lake.