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

A fork in the woods2021, Robert Nissenbaum
Bowman Bay, WA at sunrise looking toward Deception Island past flat water2021, Robert Nissenbaum
The scratched hull of a blue Whisky 16 sea kayak2021, Robert Nissenbaum
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