Years ago I lived by Richardson Bay in Mill Valley and owned this handmade cedar canoe.
Tag: Water
My Old Cedar Canoe
We All Get Wet
often the best response
is to give up
abandon all hope of
truly knowing how the
acorn becomes a tree
it just does, and
one day that barked
branched swaying nature
will topple, call it age
or disease, shifting roots
or unsteady ground, but
this too will just happen
and yet, we try so hard
to control all of life
when really, clinging
tightly is like pretending
a summer storm isn’t
made of rain, at some point
we all get wet
After Reading Stanley Kunitz
what are memories?
a skipping stone
under layers of
silt, bottom of
this primordial riverbed
water rushing over
unaware that time
has passed, soon
all is forgotten
Stow Lake, San Francisco
San Francisco in December
Apples
fuji, granny smith
red delicious, original
ornaments before christmas
was christmas, stems
like umbilical cords
dangling juice bulbs
filled with tree
strength inside
each one sways
growing seeds
bark, trunk
roots, sacred
dirt, water, all of
life between teeth
while chewing
this earth
Little Oceans
Puddle, seconds before child
stomps that glistening water, sky rain,
cousin to Atlantic and Pacific.
Wet space where Trident gum lives between
teeth and tongue, swishing this way and that,
minty boat soon to be spit out.
Blue eyes, reflecting sunset waves, dancing
light, endless saltwater pools, see, feel
everything.
Square windowed snowfall, winter flakes
drift, living Monet, pine trees frozen
in distance.
When The Glass Water Bottle Spoke
I see all the plastic bottles filled and shiny,
pasted labels over clear water within. I’ve
never been jealous of that crinkle sound,
sad little ache after the last drop is gone.
Always wondered what disposable meant,
dented, crushed, twisted, one on top of the
next, in bins, trashcans, on streets. Others
tossed off boats, or tide taken away from sand
into sea. Gulped by curious pelicans hungry
for more than digestive death.
Me, I like lips that touch my rim again and
again, tender sips when I’m brimming with cool
life-giving liquid. But I’m a romantic, I believe
in everlasting love, that you will want me forever.
Daniel W. Polk 