8 June 2025

By Philip Kuepper

A muscular elegance, I thought,
two words that usually
do not pair well. Yet the sweep
of the rower along the lake
was the embodiment
of muscular elegance,
conveying a beauty I found myself
feeling desire for, and envying.
But I was going to be the poet,
not the rower.
My words were going to be
the muscular elegance present,
and not some cut exquisite athlete.
It took me awhile to laugh
at my childishness, at which point
I decided to fold said Adonis
into this poem, where he rows,
absolutely unaware of my presence.
He had no need of anyone but himself
to immortalize his beauty.

(29 May 2025)