Paddling Fish Creek

Paddling Fish Creek


In our separate kayaks we explore,

you fishing, casting hope beneath the water.

I paddle the other direction, face turned toward the sky

making cartoon characters out of clouds.


My eyes drift down, to where the creek fills the harbor.

I see a snapping turtle dive, digging the water

claws stretched out, legs pulling and pushing

shell shifting back and forth with each grasp of water.


I don’t know how long the doe was watching me,

water dripping from her mouth, a slip of grass

dangling from her lips; brown eyes fixed on me,

her body still, except for the twitch of white tail.


I hold my breath, my paddle poised

motionless in midair. The doe and I,

locked in a stare, our quickening hearts

beating as one.