1.
Gliding smoothly along the quiet stream
Moving almost effortlessly through nature
The sound of the paddle dipping in and out
Propels the two of us into the marsh.
On a day with scarcely a zephyr breeze
The expanse of the bay surface smooths out
Shimmering under the summer solstice sun
As we seek the shade of trees at the shore.
I am in the front seat of a canoe drinking in the view
Going down memory lane with my son now grown
Traveling with the tide to take in the panorama
Going to our favorite place when he was a boy.
The conversation is good but mostly we keep silent
Being immersed in the moment among the tall phragmites
Taking the time to enjoy being with each other
Leaving any troubles of the world waiting in town.
2.
Later I post photos and a video to savor the scene
And share with Rosie on her Brooklyn apartment screen
Where her excursions these days are virtual trips
Taking me in turn to other places with her stories.
Here are her directions to her favorite kayak trip:
“From Buffalo over the Peace Bridge to Fort Erie, Canada.
Right turn on River Road which leads to the Canadian Falls.
Before the Falls, a left turn at Frenchman’s Creek.
“Blow up the kayak. Paddle…
Revel in the varied scenery, breathe the greens, blooms, water.
Glorious. The end: Queen Elizabeth Highway.
Creek continued but we could not.”
She remembers a happy time with the one she calls Big Daddy
“We took the kayak on vacations and had adventures.
Moved to NYC in 1965. Left kayak.”
But the experience stayed with her to be enjoyed her whole life.
3.
I am stretching my legs standing behind my chair
One of the few men among many women here waiting
For the senior center exercise class to begin
When a seated woman behind me catches my eye.
She is smiling and happy to be here even though
She cannot keep up with the standing routines
And I talk with her brightened by her animated response
Thinking of how positive she stays like our dear Rosie.
I would like to retrace that Canadian kayak trip one day
Seeing for myself how Frenchman’s Creek looks now
Thinking of Rosie and Milt in the flower of their youth
Taking a respite paddling there from the witch hunt of the 50’s.
Now that Rosie’s advanced age makes living more day to day
I gather these precious memories and keep them close
As something to have and to hold as long as I live
That others may know, too, if they chance to read this.
