On occasional summer days when we’ve got nothing else to do,
my buddy Austin and. 1 paddle out to Joe’s Island.
It is a small island,
surrounded by submerged rocks.
One end is a small clearing for a fire pit,
that you would not see from the water.
The other is wooded,
with a small inlet to pull up the kayaks.
A person usually hears waves striking the rocks,
accompanied by a seemingly constant wind.
When visiting the island,
I often recall the smell of dead snails and Austin.
Scorching nights were the worst of all,
millions of mosquitoes restricted us to the tent.
We once constructed our own fishing pole,
although it didn’t work worth beans.
Once in the early morning we observed a beaver swimming by,
taking no notice of us whatsoever.
The paddle back was always serene,
no boats had broken the water’s surface
and we felt extraordinary
Joe’s Island is a special place for us,
and we will visit it for every summer to come.
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