You must Publish this diary to make this visible to the public,
or click 'Edit Diary' to make further changes first.
Posting a Diary Entry
Daily Kos welcomes blog articles from readers, known as diaries. The Intro section to a diary should be about three paragraphs long, and is required. The body section is optional, as
is the poll, which can have 1 to 15 choices. Descriptive tags are also required to help others find your diary by subject; please don't use "cute" tags.
When you're ready, scroll down below the tags and click Save & Preview. You can edit your diary after it's published by clicking Edit Diary. Polls cannot be edited once they are published.
If this is your first time creating a Diary since the Ajax upgrade, before you enter any text below, please press Ctrl-F5 and then hold down the Shift Key and press your browser's Reload button to refresh its cache with the new script files.
ATTENTION: READ THE RULES.
One diary daily maximum.
Substantive diaries only. If you don't have at least three solid, original paragraphs, you should probably post a comment in an Open Thread.
No repetitive diaries. Take a moment to ensure your topic hasn't been blogged (you can search for Stories and Diaries
that already cover this topic), though fresh original analysis is always welcome.
Use the "Body" textbox if your diary entry is longer than three paragraphs.
Any images in your posts must be hosted by an approved image hosting service (one of: imageshack.us, photobucket.com, flickr.com, smugmug.com, allyoucanupload.com, picturetrail.com, mac.com, webshots.com, editgrid.com).
Copying and pasting entire copyrighted works is prohibited. If you do quote something, keep it brief, always provide a link to the original source, and use the <blockquote> tags to clearly identify the quoted material. Violating this rule is grounds for immediate banning.
Be civil. Do not "call out" other users by name in diary titles. Do not use profanity in diary titles. Don't write diaries whose main purpose is to deliberately inflame.
A boat is where I feel most alive.
The firm pull of the blades,
the tholes creak,
the chop slaps the hull
while my palms taste the oar handles.
She is wood and aluminum
pea green and tarnished silver.
My Missus and the little white dog perch in the stern.
The sun pings the ripples
and pierces down into the blackness.
I pull with the soft breeze abeam.
Near the mouth of the creek,
boulders lurk to bite oar tips and break props.
Missus guides me off their dark granite heads.
A strand of weed catches the oar
as we glide past the fallen logs,
the lily pads, and horsetail reeds.
My blood courses,
with the sun and the wind
and the pulse of the water,
sucking at the oars.
In a moment I am a sun-burnt child again.
Only three of us gliding over the black water,
plenty of room to stretch and pull
but the boat is nonetheless crowded.
The family who brought me here,
Aunt Theresa, Uncle Al, Uncle Jake
Dozens of cousins and fistfuls of sisters and brothers
splash and laugh and argue.
They dive from the boat
and climb back in.
They are trailing behind on inner tubes,
waving from the shore,
and listening to loons under a pink, golden sky.
Uncle Tony wades with his fly rod.
The popper on the end of his line
punctuates the sweeps in the twilight.
Originally posted to ruleoflaw on Fri Aug 30, 2013 at 04:53 PM PDT.