Star Lake After Vietnam
They balance their gear in the center of the Grumman – the workhorse canoe. She sits in the bow, he in the stern. They grip their paddles like he taught her when they were kids. Each pull of paddle makes plate-sized eddies in smooth water as they churn forward toward a place he knows from before. The only sound – the drip of water from paddles.
They head to an island where they find the shore bedded in pine needles and aspens shake in a slight breeze. Granite boulders line the island’s edge, the canoe slides in over an open patch of sand with a gentle bump on the bank of earth.
They pitch a tent under shade trees, gather windfall branches for firewood on this gentle summer day – no more war, no bad news. They cook corned beef hash and eggs over an open fire. They sit without words; siblings in silence.
After a noon swim, they rest on sun-warmed boulders. Talk of shared times, family, and growing up. This weekend, this time before marriage, before kids, cousins, and commotion, when they didn’t know what was coming next.
curl of campfire
distant tremolo of loons
full moon rises
REVISION - PAST TENSE ( and adverb elimination…LOL)
Star Lake After Vietnam
They balanced their gear in the center of the Grumman – the workhorse canoe. She sat in the bow, he in the stern. They gripped their paddles like he taught her when they were kids. Each pull of the paddle made plate-sized eddies in water as they churned forward toward a place he knew from before. The only sound was the drip of water from paddles.
They headed toward an island to a shore bedded in pine needles and heard aspens rustle in the breeze. Granite boulders lined the island’s edge, the canoe slid over an open patch of sand with a bump on the bank of earth.
He pitched a tent under shade trees, she gathered windfall branches for firewood on this summer day – no more war, no bad news. He fried corned beef hash and eggs over an open fire. They ate without words -- siblings in silence.
After a noon swim, they rested on boulders warmed by the sun. He talked about when they were kids– winters skiing on Rib Mountain, and in summer, fishing on Lake Wausau. She remembered family picnics and cookouts in the backyard on hot muggy days. But this weekend, brother and sister camped together in that time before marriage, before kids, cousins, and commotion, when they didn’t know what was coming next.
curl of campfire
distant tremolo of loons
full moon rises
