When Does Winter End?
When Does Winter End?
In steel-sharp and bitter March
when the men's eights---
Big Nasty
Sex Panther
Banana Boat---
breech the gray Occoquan.
Sixteen unbound hands claim
oars, the thin squawks of the well-wrapped
coxswain a vain rhythm as undamped
blood jerks and lurches,
each heart stoked with
rushing, rushing, rushing.
For months, they've abased themselves on stolid
ergometers, puking into the common
cup. They've bowed thousands of squats for this---
a race of bending and unbending,
legs driving boat seats in a slamming song,
veined arms pulling against blind
water, which would snatch an ill-timed oar,
and like an emergency brake thrown,
coldcock one as the other seven
fly. The only thing to do is lie flat
as the oar handle whips over you.
String by string by string,
muscles break and weep.
But it's no longer
winter
when boats
are on the water.
---Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)
A Cast of One
Friday, November 14, 2008
