The Canoe

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My brother was given this picture and asked to write a poemabout what he thinks about the picture. He wrote… he writes in my mother tongueand shown me that poem. He asked me to write a poem in English about what Ifelt. I am using my usual style and flow to say what I feel about the picture.


The Canoe

The gruesome summer day flared,
When all those who hated the cold,
In the burn of the sun fried.
Every corner of the horizon filled,
With dark clouds as through the sea shore I walked,
Along the walk I saw a canoe fishermen left,
With the rising dark clouds behind, all alone,
A sense of helplessness lingered,
In my mind for reasons unknown.
Lonely walks through which mind always grab,
Old memories, those sights and sounds I left,
Far away in the land of mysterious warmth.

Oh’ long passed images flirted through mind,
And among those, one stood out,
Ashore, empty, left out she sat,
After long hours rowed and people she carried,
Some with fear, some fun filled,
Some never woke up from dreams,
Many weaved dreams when carried,
Oh’ the tired canoe upon the shore she sat,
With thousands of foots stepped upon,
All carried to safety, now none remembered.
The paddles once like the arms of a swimmer fell,
The arms that once held the canoe straight,
All darkened, as no arm touched them anymore,
As the new bridge took all away,
And the canoe was left out with none to touch,
Except mosses and algae and reptiles hiding,
As the blazing sun upon her fired,
Arrows of fire like a monster merciless.

The sun broke through dark clouds before his nightly plunge
My eyes I opened as the fires of the evening sun shown,
No mercy upon my face either,
I looked at the canoe once more and then back I laid,
Upon the soft sand on the beach with my eyes closed,
Knowing well that upon the canoe memories shown,
I once sat on a humid summer evening and weaved,
Looking at a pair of pretty eyes, a dream unfulfilled.


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