Canoeing the Lagoon
       

The morning heat
hasn't steamed in
& my muscles
haven't twitched their last,
so for now it's June,
cool mist twining
above the lilies,
two men casting
for largemouth they hope
are hungry, the channel
deeper than anyone
has ever known it.
I hand the paddle
from side to side,
gape at & fail to notice
the miracle of mundane
eye & elbow & thumb,
the gurgle the blade makes
when I plunge it in
& pull. It no longer
matters who taught me
what stern means.
I rented this thing
& soon must guide it back.

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Copyright © 2014 John Repp All rights reserved
from Fat Jersey Blues
The University of Akron Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission