Anniversary
Johnclarestokes
Was this the day
that Friday the fifth
In the Santa Fe you did wade
Vows made
That day shade
Deadly
We just couldn't see it
Murky at the time
The spell of cool water
Beneath our bare feet
Keeping such future
Thoughts at bay
Upon that place
The trees continue
To fall
Those rocks thought
So hard
Were but clay
Breaking easily
It's not a spot to say vows
Above in the broken limbs
The wind howls
The Owls they flee
Upstream possibly
It goes underground
Should of known it then.
It was on a Friday the 5th in 2010 we stood in the Santa Fe, the same spot the little baby boy took his first boat ride. It too, was eventful, for the sheer pin on the kicker broke. Downstream and too swift to paddle back, I pulled mamma and baby back with the bowline.
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