|
Kayaking the Upper
Pamet in May
by Lucile Burt
Come along and float
just inches above the muck,
dense with death and life,
on water still frigid from snow melt
and days on end of April rain
that reached cold into our bones.
Come along and thaw
in air thick with the chorus
of bayberry blossom, first leaves
of swamp maple, birch, scrub oak,
of fiddleheads unfurling,
of red-winged blackbird, yellow warbler.
Thick too with old longings
rising in our chests
like the ancient snapping turtle
stained with river tannin
fringed with algae,
surfacing for another spring.
| 
