In my little yellow kayak
Where I float alone.
On a quiet lake
The sun warms my face.
In my little yellow kayak
Where the water lilies grow.
From the mucky bottom to the sunny surface
And, no matter where the wind and water take them,
Always return to their roots.
In my little yellow kayak
Where the ugly is beautiful and the beautiful is breathtaking.
I watch the dragonflies land on my paddles
And marvel at their colors and transparent wings.
In my little yellow kayak
Where the quiet solitude is fragile.
I am alone
But I am not lonely.
In my little yellow kayak
Where the balance is delicate.
I lean to one side to touch the water and nearly flip
But I stay upright, and the kayak returns to its careful equilibrium.
The water is warm.
In my little yellow kayak
Where I feel easy.
I watch the small cove that I wish to go to
But do not wish to ripple the mirror beneath my small boat.
In my little yellow kayak
Where I paddle to the center of the lake
And let the breeze and the current take me where they wish
Which is surprising close to where I wanted to go in the first place.
It is a little different
But it is still just as beautiful.
In my little yellow kayak
Where I am happy.
With the wind and the water and the water lilies all around me
I am alone but I am not lonely.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryThis is a small collection of poetry I have written over the years. I would love some critiques if you have any!
