In a tiny wooden boat she pushed off <br />alone from the dockings ties and set herself adrift <br />out into the cool waters and the darkness. <br />And the stars overhead cast their gaze <br />back at themselves from the skin of that deep autumn lake. <br /> <br />She carried with her in that small craft <br />just one oar – the other, she left in my hands as I stood <br />there by the docks edge, then sat with it. <br />The oar in my lap, my feet dangling, <br />eyes straining as her figure drifted from my sight <br />like mist over the memory of a deep silent dream. <br /> <br />The displacement of water around her <br />and the shallow ribbed bough was all but unnoticeable. <br />But the weight of half a lifetime was with her. <br /> <br />And the past and the present and the future <br />and generations to come she carried in tow <br />till it seemed the very galaxy and stars and planets <br />and space and time bowed in on her <br />from the sheer weight of such combined things. <br /> <br />The dock creaked and moaned my existence, <br />but I waited, hoping the ceaseless trembling fire of dawn <br />and the changing October world would bring her back to me; <br />that the mornings amber rays and my outstretched paddle <br />and her reaching hand would meet; that I would pull her back <br />and secure the ropes and help her place her footing if she let me.<br /><br />Donald Fredette<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-fall-13/
