Saturday, February 5, 2011

THIS BOAT


dug-out from the tulip poplar
where the great-blue heron nested
until i felled her
my twenty-first year
under wet deer skin
embers burned the trunk
and she gave way
to season on winter ground
split in the spring
each end planed to V
prow - the head of a boa
stern - the tail of a fish
her cavity hollowed
by rosin and adze
rubbed smooth with hemlock
set water-tight with fire
expanded with steam
i plot her
deliberately
the curves of her belly glide
over shallows and swells
that we know by heart
and float as
one



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