Archive 08/20/09 - (2)

   

Lazy Day

                                                                  

Here in Lake Nebagamon,

It's been raining for twenty-four hours.

Staying in the cabin has been a full-time occupation,

A joy, really, with nothing better for me to do

Than listen to the precipitation drip onto the kitchen porch

And watch its steady progress,

As it perforates the lake's surface, with gentle buckshot.

 

When I was a camper, nearby, fifty-odd years ago,

We called a gray, wet break in the busy season, like this,

A "lazy day," which signaled a rare chance to sleep in,

Followed by a visit to the rec hall, between 8:30 and 10:00,

To have a buffet of eggs (any style), bacon, buttered toast —

A far cry from the usual milk/cereal/K.P.-duty breakfast,

Followed by a double-session of morning/afternoon projects.

 

Occasionally, it's a privilege, indulging in a nothing-to-do day,

Juggling a time-on-my-hands a.m. and p.m.,

Just for the sake of letting the world be, without me.

In this slowly disclosing moment of perfect equanimity,

I can only hope that the rain keeps poking holes

In the lake's calm expanse,

Letting me know all's well, with my soul's steady progress.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                               

 

08/20/09 - (2)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 
   
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