Water lilies

It is amazing to me how particular images carry such power.  This is part of my childhood memory.  I can picture the speed boat and the water lilies, the vast expanse of Big Trout when we made it through the channel, even the red cooler with ice which held the small bottles of Coca-Cola, a drink we were only allowed to have Up North at the Cabin on the Lake.  There was beauty in the channel, something I am trying to remember now.

We spent part of every summer

On a chain of lakes,

Paddled the speed boat

Through the water lilies

In the channels

Between the lakes.

Sometimes we even walked the boat

So the motor

Wouldn*t get clogged.

Once through the channel

We hit full throttle

Through deeper water,

Found the white sand beach,

Swam,

Ate white bread sandwiches,

Drank cold Coca-Cola

From small green bottles.

Going home

We reversed the process.

I do not spend summers now

On a chain of lakes.

I still see the channels blocked

With water lilies:

Yellow pond lilies,

White full blossom kind,

Lily pads.

Fish still swim

Underneath.

I still cannot power through them.

Today I walk the boat

Through the lilies,

The lily pads.

Today I would like to come out the other side

Hit deeper water

Make the boat run its paces

Full throttle.

Today I would like to eat white bread sandwiches

Drink ice-cold Coca Cola

In the warm sun.