Love Poem with Row Boat

Photo:  Barn Door.      David Graham

And one final poem from Paula Sergi.   Enjoy.  Tomorrow being my last day at the wheel of TRUCK, look for something different. . . .

Love Poem with Row Boat

At a curve in the path

near a pause in the gentle hill,

blades of yellow-green grass

cover the mound of brown earth,

soft as fur beneath our feet. Earth

so rich we smell nut shells,

watch moth wings shed morning’s

wash of dew. Too soon

for blossoms, but nubs of early

iris arms twist around their secret—

we predict purple. The door

to a weather-worn shed

hangs on rusted hinges,

open just enough to show

cool dust and loose shingles,

nails and a rusted fish hook.

We’ve never seen this building

at the edge of our lawn,

budding true as any story.

In the back a wooden row boat

peels its blue paint,

bobs on the wrinkled linens

of a man-made lake. You turn

to me, unshaven, murmur

Let’s push off.

--Paula Sergi