90-Miler
Three arduous days, ninety miles.
Six hundred paddlers, take the challenge.
Adults afloat, youth watching.


Boats stream the course,
ambition, adventure, challenge,
sometimes fun, at the helm.


Deadly serious, eight men, eyes on the finish,
no talk nor stray glance, arms pumping,
Hup, hup, calls the pacer as they race to exist.


A four-woman crew, all smiles and grace,
Returns crowd cheers, streaks by,
These first ones – happy, energetic.


Time passes: six to a canoe, older guys,
less vigorous, defy age, pulling together
like strands of a rope.


And more: two women, plugged
into music, dead to all else?
Paddle with the beat.


Riding the current with gentle strokes,
a threesome floats by in casual chatter,
laughs tossed in.


A guide boat, rower gazes at cardinal
flowers, tall pines, eagle soaring above,
immersed in the present.


A couple: she, tearful, begging to stop,
he competitive, defiant, urging her on.
How will this end?


Someone pushing the limit:
agile, bending to each stroke,
he rides a paddleboard.


Finally: two weary sports, slow, determined
but lacking strength. Much further? They ask.
Out of time, disqualified, their dream denied.


Three chubby paddlers, naïve,
strain their hearts and quit the race
to tell tall stories back home.




Varied as fall leaves,
boaters ripple by,
and varied the strokes they make.


Observer on the bank,
watching at the water’s edge,
take careful note:


It’s about the journey,
for in the end, all land
on the same final shore.


What lessons have you
gleaned from the river’s
human freight?


Your turn now, you’ve seen it all,
To the unknown bound, choose your course,
Pick a style, grab that paddle,
Push off into your future.




Caperton Tissot
www.SnowyOwlPress.com

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