Sandbar

In a fiberglass tub,
a dead fish and grass smell
lead to a knifeline of sand
scratched on the bay. Summers

I crave stagnation,
dragonflies, reeds
and sunning turtles.

I pull in, tie the anchor
to a stump. An oriole skims
yellow water lilies.
A fisherman sings,

his bullfrog voice
in weedy water.

An intruder, I row out.

 

originally appeared in Orbis (1991)

Published by

Kenneth Pobo

Kenneth Pobo has six full-length collections of poetry and, including Ice And Gaywings, twenty chapbooks. His latest book, from Blue Light Press, is called Bend Of Quiet, and Booking Rooms in the Kuiper Belt is forthcoming from Urban Farmhouse Press. Ken began writing at age fifteen. He teaches creative writing and English at Widener University in Chester, Pennsylvania. He and his partner and two cats enjoy gardening, music, and the Wisconsin Northwoods. Catch Ken’s radio show, Obscure Oldies, on Saturdays from 6:00-8:30 pm EST at WDNR 89.5 FM.