the first time i navigated white water
my kayak thumped over the walls of river
i paddled hard to keep the bow straight
right angles to the waves so i hit them head-on
water crashed over the hull crashed over my head
pooled in my spray skirt as if i were lake
don’t know how i stayed afloat probably too afraid to
tip
call it luck call it naivety
the
first time i tipped i
was smart-assing
in the currents of a culvert
run-off
rain streaming into the river
up
i paddled the current
peeled around beautifully
rode
the stream to calmer waters
tried for repeat
performance – how naive
there
is no such thing as
repeat performance
no
two snowflakes
no two waves...
a wave is a disturbance
travelling through time and space
the wave tossed me without hesitation
without
regret
had
no sympathy, did not care:
disturbances
simply
disturb:
it is their nature
for
the first time i felt fear of the water
the
fear small and persistent, a blood clot
that
wouldn’t dissolve
embolism
travelling the rivers
of
my body and lodging
mid-chest