9 November 2017

The scull was the point
at the north of the pentagon.
The four other points?
A gull, a muskrat,
a spread of marsh grass,
and the mouth of the river,
where it debauched into the bay,
which was the sculler’s destination,
about which the gull
could not let pass without comment.
The muskrat watched,
munching, contemplatively,
on a ripe reed.  A breeze
mussed the marsh grass,
like a hand a boy’s hair.
Yet to all this
the sculler was impervious,
wholly involved, as he was, in the act
of rowing.

Philip Kuepper
(2 October 2017)