There and Back

 

My kayak against the shore
And I stroke
Paddle slicing the water
Moving upstream, wind in my face
Not one bird calling in the woods
No eagles or hawks to be seen
Not a blue heron in sight
Where are all the birds?
No kingfisher keeping pace

Just ahead of me
A lone woodpecker on a dead sycamore
Turkey vultures searching, circling
A quiet morning on the river
Riding with the current, slight wind at my back
Paddle slicing the water
And I stroke
My kayak against the shore

Day Twenty-Eight (Take Two) of 2016 NaPoWriMo.
The prompt from napowrimo.net is to write a poem as a story told backwards. Forward, backward… it’s all the same.

NaPoWriMo2016_28

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