Herewith, the latest selection from dusted-off published poetry and short fiction, circa 1970s vintage and beyond....
Canoeing
Our paddles sluice
the dusk-dark water
as night draws
the evening sky
close overhead.
Cedars and spruce
hang tipsily over the banks
leaning their dark reflections
over the lichen-clad granite.
A fish lunges
the taut skin of the lake
and overhead a kingfisher soars
beaking his lunatic call.
We drift the lazy water
clap echoes off
the tree line
watch dragonflies etch the air.
Mist rises from
the edge of this day
and the humped hills
finally swallow the sun.
c. 1980 Rita Rosenfeld
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