23 July 2017
Each thrust was that
of a dagger
through the water,
a dagger
to the heart of the race,
as the scullers
murdered the course.
At each thrust,
the river screamed
a murky scream
one could only hear from a distance,
the helpless river
out for a lovely afternoon,
only to fall victim
to so heinous a crime,
or so the losing side described it.
Philip Kuepper
(16 July 2017)
This appeared on a site I follow on Instagram, and thought you might like to have it for your collection of all lovely things rowing! Thanks for sharing all you do; I’ve learned ever so much from following you.
Just in case, here’s my screen shot of it.
🌀 Amy Lindsay🌀 From my autocorrecting iPhone (I’m an American mom whose daughter currently rows for Yale; my older daughter coxed for Bates College.)
>