Chasing Geese
I sailed a laser
in a horseshoe bay
in an island
in the San Juans
The wind was blowing
from the south
at twenty
knots or so, it felt
like fifty on my cheeks
As I headed upwind
and felt the vessel heel,
my toes dug past
their strap,
I leaned to level till
My face was sprinkled
with the spray,
my hair was trailing
in the wake,
And geese did glide
not far away,
just above the crests,
honking as I flew along
and just behind them
Skipping now and then,
my windswept face
like a stone.









