My Writing, Poetry, Ramblings

Mud Boats

I know, I know. I keep saying I’m a prose writer. But poetry is just so satisfying to write, and it’s also fun to share! I wrote this one with specific characters in mind (not necessarily my own characters), but I prefer to let it stand on its own. Enjoy!


Mud Boats

Green gems and emerald irises

set in a face of freckles;

unruly curls that bounce when she runs.

I never stood a chance.


Her legs are always moving,

running, squatting, kicking.

Her hands never sit still,

so I can never hold one.


She is a flitting bird,

a shooting star.

Her smile is huge, honest, bright;

I can’t look away.


She runs in the rain and

stomps in a puddle

and splashes mud

all over her brown skirt.


She wants to sail away

if only we could find

true north, and our boat

was not made of mud.


I’ve never been in love before.

I wonder if she has?

But if I ask, I might have to admit,

and how would she react?


Would she laugh,

an explosion of moonbeams?

Would she stare at me

with blankness in her emerald eyes?


Maybe I’m crazy,

but I’m not afraid.

My hands are steady

upon her sail.


Photo by Chester Ho on Unsplash