by FREDERICK HAYES
We paddled diffidently
Along with the others
Always awkwardly
Embarrassed by our
Lack of coordination
Mindful of the miles
And the bruised fingers
Competing with aching
Muscles for our attention
Whilst pristine Maine
Paced along beside us
Quietly observing our
Uneven progress down
The water’s pathway
Until the stream widened
And the air grew still
Beneath charged clouds
Causing us to catch
Our breath and relax
As the canoe glided
Across the mirrored
Surface of a lake
Forgiving our inability
And suggesting a truce
In the face of beauty.