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Your canoe slices the glass
in a long straight vee,
a silent spreading seam
suspended in the dark.
Moonset has inhaled its blue gleam
behind a ridge of trees.
What remains of light
hints at pinpoints,
shooting threads.
The surface
spreads for
miles,
a water galaxy
rimmed by forest.
This could be the blessing of being lost.
Varnish on your paddle
retrieves wet spark light
as you plow the stars.
This poem first appeared in The Northern Virginia Review (2016).
Used here with permission.
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Eric Forsbergh retired last year from a career in dentistry, during which he participated in several dental mission trips to Guatemala and Appalachia. A Vietnam veteran, he is now enrolled in a seminary program. Eric’s poems have appeared in a variety of venues and he is the author of one book, Imagine Morning. When not writing or studying, he enjoys spending time with his two grandsons at his home in Virginia.
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Anastasia:
So wonderfully peaceful and perfect, and just what I needed after a week of too many people and too many deadlines.
Posted 12/11/2021 03:54 PM
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VodVonDetta:
Love the quote, This could be the blessing of being lost. Such wise words!
Posted 12/07/2021 05:30 AM
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paradea:
Lovely.
Posted 12/06/2021 12:34 PM
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Larry Schug:
These words and their presentation totally immerse me in the scene. Nice internal rhyme and consonance. Each line paints its own picture.I love saying "blue gleam" aloud. One of YDP's best!
Posted 12/05/2021 08:21 AM
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Jancan:
Vivid imagery paints an appealing scene!
Posted 12/05/2021 12:08 AM
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Lori Levy:
Beautiful.
Posted 12/04/2021 09:50 AM
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cork:
The layout reminds me of the paddle passing through the water.
Posted 12/04/2021 09:33 AM
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Michael:
Really nice use of typography which adds to the effectiveness of the poem.
Posted 12/04/2021 08:46 AM
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paula:
Just lovely images
Posted 12/04/2021 05:09 AM
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