I set out to paddle at dawn.
No "honey do list," no lawn.
Each stroke I take, I'm further away.
From the toilsome tasks of the day to day.
I'll catch a few fish, build a few fires,
Spin a few yarns to share with the liars.
While watching the stars and breathing fresh air,
the jumble of thoughts find clarity there.
And when I run out of days and libations to drink,
of the blessings at home, I begin to think.
Grateful for places like this,
but more grateful for the grace of a wife who still welcomes me home with a kiss.