Scullers at Dawn

Arne Weingart

Like all artists 

 you start out in the dark 

pushing off 

 alone from the silent docks 

of the thousand 

 black rivers and black lakes 

with no special 

 purpose in mind not transport 

or carnage 

 or measurement not even 

for pleasure 

 exactly but for speed in 

these narrow 

 fragile boats you tie in and 

you move your slides 

 forward you set your hands 

at the catch 

 and now all at once you pull 

the sun explodes 

 like blood behind your eyes 

and the black world 

 moves under you toward morning