24 April 2021

By Philip Kuepper

Oars forget
what waters they’ve rowed,
oars informed
by those very waters,
oars, in themselves, dumb,
yet oars the intelligence
that sets in motion
boats. They beat
the waters. They win,
with sheer momentum,
the race they row,
the race dependent on the flow
of the current, oars,
the arms that hold,
and let go, close,
and open, round
the air found.
Oars, retired, hang,
memories of waters
that have slipped away.

(24 February 2021)