RAFT

by 
Gwen Austin

Copyright 1999

Spring sprung wet that year
so swamp pond was still alive
 in early summer.

Visions of rafting with Huck Finn
spurred our ambitious endeavor
of creating our own raft
strictly from scratch.

We forged and gathered building materials.
Young maple saplings fell to our ax.
Wild grape vines became our twine.

We yanked, cut, hauled, whittled and fiddled
all one hot afternoon.
We fitted lengths together,
wrapped each to the other,
stood back and admired our vessel.

As the eldest,
the only one with boots,
I would go first
 onto our magnificent craft.

We grunted and shoved
until our contrivance floated free.

Push-pole in hand,
I felt so grand.
I made a mighty leap,
landing in a heap,
square in the middle
 of our adventure raft.

I stood, raised the pole
 and shouted 'Victory.'

It was but a minute or two
before our raft met destiny.

It sunk down to the mud
and stuck me in that oozing crud.