Grandma This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By , Exeter, NH
You are almost there,
a paddle in your hands
In the long, yellow kayak
The splash penetrating the glassy
sound echoing water like a spoon into soup
separating the water as it slices into the lake
shattering the reflection of the sky.
If the sun could stay, you could paddle forever
like the continuous gyration of earth around the sun
The kayak's pea pod body clearing a path
for your journey across the sky-reflecting lake
The silky water crowded with fish and lake weed
hiding behind a mirror.
As the sun disappears behind the clouds, the water
morphs from a translucent green to a fading gray,
The smell of burning campfires
at cottages bordering the lake,
The smoke rising above the colossal
pine trees.
You glide under a bridge
Entering another lake; another world
Into darkness.
You churn the millions of stars in the lake
and paddle farther into darkness,
Burning campfires,
Shattering reflections,
You and your kayak journeying farther – alone.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback