The Temper of the Rower

No, it was
Not the perfect row.
An oar broke
Against a rock.
The sun beat down hot.
Water traffic made nightmare
Of the day,
All managing to make foul
The temper of the rower
Who strung the air with beads of curses.
The oil slick fouling the water
was the tipping point.
He struck a mental match,
And set light to it,
And felt better, intellectually, for it.

Philip Kuepper
(January 2012)