Kayaking

Skimming the surface,
so swift I leave no wake,
I watch for ripples
signaling shallow water,
at times drifting with the current,
paddle across my knees,
reflecting
like the tall pines gleaming in the water.
I explore close to shore,
watch for rocks,
sunken trees,
broken branches,
and turn into the wakes
of larger brassy boats
speeding by on noisy journeys.
I face the wake, roll with it,
find a rhythm all my own.
A dragon fly flits by me,
and I see on the waters
a gleaming image of myself
paddling with all currents.