The withered splintering dock
Rubs against my damp calves
That dangle over the pier
As the slowly shrinking boat waves
Crash up against the 6 of us.
As the 2015 ocean blue ski nautique
Whips around in a figure eight,
It sends a whirlpool of giant wakes that
Submerge our off white abused skis
In the tamarack stained lake water.
The deep rumble of the boat's engine
As it shifts between neutral and forward
Vibrates into our ears
Like the muffler of a big old Harley
Shifting up and down.
The slight breeze from the lakeside opposite of us,
Sways the crippling smell from the damp moldy life vests
That smell like wet towels buried inside a garbage disposal
And left there to rot,
Into our noses
While they cringe and fight the urge to gag.
The anxious skiers flaunt their overconfident attitudes
Yelling “let's get cocky”
Cuz we all knew
We had to be cocky
In order to prevent this shaky pyramid
From plummeting down
Like an avalanche down a mountain side.
Finally it's time.
The leader bonding all the individual ropes together
Is latched onto the boat.
The coils gradually gain speed
As they uncoil and  leave behind microscopic rug burns
While the boat prepares to take off
Fast enough to pull the dead weight
Gripping the ski handles for dear life.
The slow start
Is enough to pull us off the dock
But not enough to keep the skis above water.
We fight against our sinking bodies
Desperately praying the speed gets faster
Before we end up
With skis scraping against the sand- rock bottom
And an ocean of water shot up our nose.
We did it.
We're up.
We scramble to come together
Shoulder to shoulder,
While Skis knock back and forth stacking on top of each other.
We round the point,
And now it's the 45 seconds of truth.
Will we come back around the corner
Stacked 3 high,
Or will the rescue boat have to drag a collection of limp bodies
Back to shore
Crippled from the tower that toppled over
And left us all flopping around
Simultaneously stuck doing underwater somersaults
While we all attempt to dodge the flailing limbs
Of the 6 people violently tumbling
Through the abundance of lost skis and
Loose wild ropes
Unpredictably shooting around at them.
But luckily, that's not today.
We made it up.
The not so symmetrical equilateral triangle
Of people on water skis,
Is stronger than ever.
If you don't consider the weak, wobbling arms and legs
That form  the foundation of the pyramid
We made magically mobile
While walking on water,
With skis of course.