Saturday, September 13, 2008

Coxswain

I faced forward as the fragile rowing shell skated. Four oar blades dipping in, engaging, following through and resurfacing. My rowers faced me. At 5 a.m. we were alone on the water with the herons and sometimes a tugboat. It terrified me to play this part—pilot and commander. Then the weather changed in me and I found my voice.

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