The Kids had a Good Day

the sky morphed -
ominously -
to storm cloud black;

and the beach was left
in abandoned sand castles -

and transistor radio doo-wops,
doo-wopping from the cabin porch.

the sun had run off with the kids . . . 
the canoe, it appeared, went along for the ride - 

out onto the dark lake.

I heard booms of thunder -
loud kettle drum bangs -
and my heart began to pound,
in revving flip-flops

as my eyes scanned round and round:
scary pleading darts, of stops and starts.

I was about to sound the alarm
when I saw them - paddling towards shore -
their faces, serious; their strokes, strong and sure.

the canoe brought them back to me,

just as the rain poured down
in plopping splattering giant drops -
glops - flopping and bouncing onto the lake.

they ran through the screen door -
soaked and laughing -
puddled footprints across the floor.

slowly, I ratcheted myself down:
inhaling the comforting, good smells
of rain, and children and camp logs
and bacon and coffee.

the cabin snuggled like a turtle
in the splashing water.

later the sun came out
and lit up the lake.

The kids had a good day.

note:  A redo of an idea from a long ago poem.

photo:  In the Cabin at the Lake - W. Bourke

© 2013 Wendy Bourke