Lurch

That feeling.

And there it is again,

that lurching feeling;
No riverbed to push off from;
Out of my depth
again.
How ironic.
I swerve the pole steadily to the right,
keeping my face on;
They chat and smile away, just the same:
White birds gliding slowly through a green world,
while overhanging leaves kiss their mirror twins on the edges.
My hold is firm again,
hands climbing securely
along a steady, even path;
Angle changing, but one hand
above the other, never doubting
where to go.
Firm grip again, I can lean my weight in
if I need to.
We drift along;
The green mirror not such a steady, even path,
But it'll do—
—On a good day.

Notes ▶︎

Written for "The Taboo Words Contest ~ On Hiatus" 

Prompt: Punting on the river

Taboo words: boat, water, punt, float, splash or any derivatives of these

23 lines

Freeform

Submitted for "1st & 2nd Chance Poetry - TEMP. CLOSED"  in November 2023