16 September 2018*

Row the Mystic, if you will,
and note each dip of the oars
into the water whispers,
“Pip,” “Pip,” “Pip,”
the boat heavy with the breaking
hearts of loyalty,
that makes their friendship their reality.

“Pip,” “Magwitch,”, “Pip,” “Magwitch,”
slurp the oars, like a coxswain’s call,
their hearts aroar beyond the law,
in the rare world of love.

Yet, love the law we must,
however crushed our hearts.
For hearts gone fugitive
can’t ever know bliss,
haunted by being hunted,
haunted by the moment
of being caught.

Yet the oars do whisper
“Pip,” “Magwitch,”
to remind us,
love, be loyal friends
(the kind of love, of loyalty Joe smithied for Pip).
For there are no greater
expectations than these.

(8 September 2018)
* Today, it’s Coastweeks Regatta on the Mystic River, Connecticut.