by on January 1, 2012 :: 0 comments

Nothing more
than a small un-painted boat,
cracked boards leaking water
no name on the stern

pulling gently on its chain
like an old dog
eager to be home;

but if I lie back on those boards
mouth open wide
to suckle a little rain
I would howl and howl
till the river roared back,

and between us
we broke our chains.

editors note:

What way to begin a year full of new is better than to swim in the stream up or down unfettered? – mh

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