Boating ten klicks from Summerstown, east
all the way to the conical cairn at Lancaster
River and sky play as one in the sun
ripples reflect in instants the intensity
listen look and wonder at birds playing
over the empty surface of the weekday river
far islands perch between sky and water
uncertain of their domain where both are one
the long serpentine water path traced red in Ontario
and green in Quebec by winter’s large stick buoys
the islands are russets, reds, golds, greens
but the water and sky parade glorious sapphire
the air is warm fresh alive and, like the river
not for sale
