The Yellow Breeches at McCormick Park
It's a peaceful Sunday afternoon. Since I can't get out on my kayak, I thought I'd take the time to enjoy the afternoon in the yard and write about some recent outings. These moments on the Yellow Breeches (the stream behind our home) have been itching to get down on paper. Hope you enjoy...
Pick Ups on the Yellow Breeches
1. Transported
My dangling hand
trails the kayak's lazy glide;
I've snagged a leaf-
its mottled brown a careful
dotted filigree.
What magical force transported it
intact from autumn fall to
float within my reach?
2. Hitch-hiker
He glided to my knee without a sound
and folded frail, elongated wings.
We flloated quite companionably until
I leaned to notice
exactly where those sky blue dots
were splashed against his match-like frame.
Long enough, he thought,
and drifted off.
3. The Falls
I sense the current's change.
No longer pleased to dawdle,
It's eager now to catch my tube
and, with a merry burst of joy,
push me down the beck'ning chute.
There frothing waves will jounce and jostle,
guiding me until I'm safely past
the pillared bridge.
4. Young love
I hear the giggles first.
The older girl
(mid-teens I guess)
will not just jump into the raft.
She needs to know just where she'll sit--
how close or far from either boy
and where her feet will go.
Her friend is standing quietly,
while both the boys
anticipate an afternoon delight.
Susan Schmidt, July 2011
1. Transported
My dangling hand
trails the kayak's lazy glide;
I've snagged a leaf-
its mottled brown a careful
dotted filigree.
What magical force transported it
intact from autumn fall to
float within my reach?
2. Hitch-hiker
He glided to my knee without a sound
and folded frail, elongated wings.
We flloated quite companionably until
I leaned to notice
exactly where those sky blue dots
were splashed against his match-like frame.
Long enough, he thought,
and drifted off.
3. The Falls
I sense the current's change.
No longer pleased to dawdle,
It's eager now to catch my tube
and, with a merry burst of joy,
push me down the beck'ning chute.
There frothing waves will jounce and jostle,
guiding me until I'm safely past
the pillared bridge.
4. Young love
I hear the giggles first.
The older girl
(mid-teens I guess)
will not just jump into the raft.
She needs to know just where she'll sit--
how close or far from either boy
and where her feet will go.
Her friend is standing quietly,
while both the boys
anticipate an afternoon delight.
Susan Schmidt, July 2011
