The North: A magazine of poems articles, reviews & features, Issue 68, August, 2022
Remembering Last Year at Hood Canal
This time last year we were paddling together
in deep roiling waters in Hood Canal.
Checking crab traps for that catch
to feed the joyful celebration of our mother.
For she had become my mother, too.
We paddled well the two of us: a left, then a right.
If too much on the left a stroke or two on the right.
This was how we went through life:
On course for a future I thought I knew
to a point farther away than it first had appeared.
That night we had crab and laughed and drank together.
Then we stood in the dark in the ocean breeze.
The sailor in my blood knew we’d been blown off course.
Our love irrevocably lost overboard
sent to the bottom along with the weight of empty words.
Sometimes I stand on this different shore
See him out on the boat fading into beyond
Everyday a little farther
Less and less I know him.
And less and less I remember.