ON A PARTICULAR TUESDAY MORNING IN THE KEYS

Horizonwe push forward unable to tell the difference between what is below & what is above the impossible horizon other than our trajectory & the languid floating existence of the mangroves & blushed clouds but we push because it gives us what we need with every slow rise & fall the skiff’s bow makes into its distance everything & everything more becoming apparent the unknown & unpredictable only so until we ride on-plane across a dozen jade & cobalt miles of cuts channels lakes potholes shoals white sand skinny water turtle grass & loose sargassum saying the names of each under my breath into the wind in my face internalizing each moment with every leaning wide sweep around the lee side of an island eventually settling into an incoming outgoing slack high slack low tide & posting up on the outside for the inevitable & inevitably unpredictable sight of tarpon shadowing the capricious topography sun higher & higher waxing moon persistent till noon a rookery croaking to life in the growing post-engine silence as our wake settles on shore the world giant & close simpler & simpler this life the more we chance to be in it

8 Comments

Filed under On the water, Poetry, The road

8 responses to “ON A PARTICULAR TUESDAY MORNING IN THE KEYS

  1. …saying the names of each under my breath into the wind in my face …

    This phrase grabs me. The internalization of life as it flows by; soft verbal acknowledgement offered to place. A fine and beautiful observation. Thanks, Matt.

    • fishingpoet

      Saying them forces you to be present. Or confirms and honors that you are. And their music is worth the audible acknowledgement, too. Thanks for the note, Mike. I hope you’re well.

  2. Good stuff, my friend.

  3. Pingback: Tippets: Fishing Poet on the Keys, Catch & Release Practices, Backcountry Tenkara | MidCurrent

  4. Bob E

    Have experienced that magical, memorable time myself at daybreak heading westward from the Lorelei. Like floating in space where up and down disappear till the spell breaks with the first glimpse of a daisy chain of emerald tarpon rolling slowing, gulping air, and waiting patiently to swallow a well-cast fly. So glad you wrote about it.

    • fishingpoet

      Thank you, Bob! It is a fantastic place and experience (and I know that westward path from the Lorelei, too). I appreciate you taking the time to leave a note!

  5. Andrea DeSain

    What a beautiful writer you are……:)

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