Either the boat did not want
to be withdrawn from the water,
or the water did not want
to let its new prize go.
Waves of green foam
rolled over the railing
in a calm firmness,
and the trees cast shadows
on the rippling water
pooling at the edge of
a concrete slab where
a red truck’s wheels
were spinning in the mud.
A few more inches
and the rubber would have connected
to the waves bouncing off
the boat’s hull.
I sometimes think of life’s
fractions of inches
it reminds me of how closely
life and death are related.
I’m thinking now
watching two hawks circle
a fraction of an inch
to the left
of the chickens below.
Lexington, South Carolina
