Today, all I need
is a skiff
and one good paddle.
I'll let the river do the rest
and ride the tide
going out
down
to the abandoned farm;
tie up
where beams and rafters
of what was once a barn
frame the Catskills
better than Thomas Cole could;
and sit
for hours
feet in the water
face to the sun
till the office is
purged from the soul
and the slack tide turns
to running high.
Reborn
I'll make the pilgrimage home
correcting course
with a stroke or two.
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