by Joanne Allen
That boat - that little blue boat
See it over there ?
Yes, with the white at the hull
stuccoed with rust
wet brown painter
tying it down
anchoring it to the sole of the lake?
Well, that boat gently tilting in the waves
I sat in its lap when I was 3
never saw it before
and I wouldn’t get up or out of it
We travelled for miles together
whether I was in it or not
it afforded me
a place to be
an infinite understanding
a kindred spirit
Now the boat’s broken
age eating at the frame
the boatman’s been out to fix it
and he has
to an extent
But we don’t know
we don’t know yet
if it’s going to go again
like it has
like it was
it was so sturdy
I’m nudging it with oil
the promise of a new sail, another trip
and it’s trying
I’m sure it’s trying
it could have another 10 years
I was counting on another 10 years
to be ruddered
© Copyright Joanne Allen - THACS Writers Online 2020