the squishy moss on the rock
God’s carpet he asked
a sweet memory made
the sound of the rain
tapping its messages
on the steel roof
the fog rolling, cotton
over the still water
enveloping my board
the loon calls out
I am nearby
this is home
the lily pads return
blanketing the bay
white dots on green
family gathers again
long sticks, white sugar
orange fire flickers
writing in the (mom)ent 