the journal of literature and the arts at saint david’ s school
i have my years our years
of stories. memories. memories of the thrill of midnight excursions of the boom of thunder of the splash of water reaching over my gunwales of the befriending of strangers of the joys of summers big and small
we share them
me, the boys, all of us.
my wooden body creaks i am old, i shall be retired soon.
but I don’ t want to be. I want to stay with the boys I want to be embraced with joys I want to glide like a wooden bee I want to be where I was built to be. I want to do what I was made to do: to be a canoe.
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