Saturday, June 17, 2017

The Sunday Poet: Llyn Clague





  Llyn Clague's  poems have been published widely, including in Atlanta Review, Wisconsin Review, California Quarterly, Main Street Rag, The Avalon Literary Review, Ibbetson Street, Hiram Poetry Review, and other print and online magazines. His seventh book, Hard-Edged and Childlike, was published by Main Street Rag in 2014. Visit www.llynclague.com.




Kayakers

A pair of kayakers, rhythmic and silent,
slide by, graceful and smooth as ducks
directly below my perch on a bench
on a boulder at the edge of the lake.

In irregular arcs and eights
the birds glide, go suddenly topsy-
turvy; with small splashes pop
up, smugly smacking their lips.

High on the upstroke, paddle tips
shoot sparks, drip last tears
back into mother lake; drop and slip
under, propelling their riders.

In passing, the man and the woman,
raising fingertips high in the air,
give me companionable waves,
noiseless ripples in their wake.

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous12:22 PM

    an exquisite poem! I read it while gazing out on my own lake, often dotted with kayakers (though not today).

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