Wednesday, March 5, 2008

A Morning

A Morning

I have carried it with me each day: that morning I took
my uncle's boat from the brown water cove
and headed for Mosher Island.
Small waves splashed against the hull
and the hollow creek of oarlock and oar
rose into the woods of black pine crusted with lichen.
I moved like a dark star, drifting over the drowned
other half of the world until, by a distant prompting,
I looked over the gunwale and saw beneath the surface
a luminous room, a light-filled grave, saw for the first time
the one clear place given to us when we are alone.

--Mark Strand

3 comments:

Anna said...

I understood this because my parents use to drag me off to their lake place in the dead of winter and the lake was calm and quiet except for a few ripples in the water. I would take our boat out into the water, hear the boat sounds echo back to me from the shore, and see the sky reflected in the water. If you looked at the reflection of the sky and yourself in the water--it would look back at you. It could mesmerize you for hours. I had nothing else to do.

Layanee said...

Well said and evocative of many boating memories! I love that 'drowned other half of the world' line.

Benjamin Vogt said...

Anna--Those are the best moments in life, aren't they?
Layanee--This Strand poem is one of my favorites, and reminds me of when I used canoe by myself in Minnesota.