My Mind Wanders in Shavasana
kayaking my childhood summer lake
view from the water reveals screen-doors small
private docks folding aluminum chairs adults
in pajamas drinking coffee or beer as sunrise fades
blue imbues a mackerel sky less becomes more with the oar
my course determined by loons
tailing the winch on my then-boyfriend’s sloop
short handle for fickle winds the jib responds
like a hooked fish a moment of tilt and speed
through the chop salt lapping stern toward
a bobbling turtle trajectory of whale
double arc of dolphins
rowing synchronized with seven others
while coxswain commands muscles pressured
in parallel sweep our rhythm against the river’s
my back to our goal measuring progress
by furrows of wake
I assume the perspective of a hovering gull
my strained shoulders now effortless wings
I look down to see the entire boat as if a leaf
eight oars symmetrical veins tipped with white
splash-dots motion made motionless the struggle of the race
gone why did I want to win? the fastest flying is still
on my mottled blue mat in a dim room
hands above my head thumb touching thumb
one leg straight one knee bent I can’t tell if I am
right side up or upside down
published in Writing in a Woman’s Voice
Comments
Beautiful recollections. Good
Regina
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Thank you, Regina. Good luck
Sara Backer
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