28 September 2025

By Philip Kuepper

I launch each word a craft
on the lake of a poem,
a craft strong enough to weather
whatever the lake’s surface
will deliver, from calm,
to a sudden squall.
A poem’s temperament can prove
terrible conditions
when the elevated beauty
of an emotion is absent.
I make certain each word
is well-ribbed, sewn taut,
watertight, yet in communion
with the water. They are
the elements brought together
by human ingenuity,
wood, water, water, wood,
word, poem, poem, word.
The wood of the word
makes the water of the poem
possible. Flow is achieved;
and, in each craft launched,
the passenger of meaning,
that helps steer the craft
to its destination, the shore
of the reader’s mind.

(21 September 2025)