Dark skies and ominous clouds,
Along a stretch of shoreline
untouched by man-made lights.
Late in the season,
cooler than ideal,
and still a show.
With each dip of the blade
a trail of glowing ‘footprints’ 
that faded back to darkness. 
The silver glint of fish darting below, 
the rain falling on us from above, 
As hulls glided through the water.

More Poetry

kayakers in the dark on a Biolume paddle Sept 2020 off Fox IslandCopyright: Robert Nissenbaum, 2020;
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