sunday morning,
my sister and I
sit on the bedroom floor
and row
we miss summer camp
but it is
only October
our room is cold
but still
we put on our bathing suits
we use wooden rulers for oars
and sing “Michael Row Your Boat Ashore”
my sister asks me to braid her hair
and I do
even though it is pixie-short
she asks if we will have
roasted marshmallows
at the cookout that night
i assure her we will
everything is possible
before our parents wake up
two young girls
rowing our boats
on the lake of dreams
Note: This is a revised version of a piece written many years ago
