The Spaces In Between

(slightly edited) Free-write from a trip out on the Choptank with my parents and friends.

after 8 pm. August evening. a river journey.
orange sunset reflected on the waves rippling out
from the wake behind us
warm puppy body at my feet
conversation blowing in the wind
boat jumping cross-wake waves.
twilight in the trees
shadows across the reeds
color is leaving the day
but hasn’t yet reached the black and white of night.
lights of houses glow on the bank,
we stop to pick up some friends,
the hum of the engine thrumming through my body
as we pull up to the dock.
cool nights are coming,
I can feel it in the wind, goose-bumps
along my legs and arms.
the rice is still green in the fading light,
but the trees are turning dark against the sky
a great-blue heron passes over head,
and ducks, terns–flying to roost–
Chris says, the water has a metallic quality at this time of night,
the dog noses up, smelling the dusky sky,
and above the first stars begin to prick the darkness.

Photo credit: Emily Vooris