Paper Boats

Paper Boats

I often reminiscence of childhood’s rainy days,

Wearing rubber boots, making paper boats with which we played.

It was a simple time in the coal camps with simple pleasures,

Those that now reside within me, having become my life’s treasures.

It wasn’t that we cared to get muddy or wet,

It was for the boats we worried that you could bet.

Rocking back and forth in the currents, battered on all sides,

The little paper boats would at times capsize.

I and my brothers plunged into the ditches,

Not caring for wind or rain or wet soppy britches.

Pulling our military boats out of the drink,

We looked at the damage inflicted, perhaps a design to rethink.

Standing together with no winners in sight,

The storm ever-increasing ensuring our plight.

But whether we won or whether we lost,

We sailed on into our destinies no matter the cost.

As evening approached with its dark cloak in hand,

There wasn’t any more time for naval conquests to plan.

Hoisting our imaginary iron sides from the gutters,

There wasn’t must left of mine nor of the others.

It had been a great Navy Day,

“Ahoy, land hoe, and other maritime words to say.

I and my brothers grateful for rainy day’s huddles,

To sail the high seas in gutters and puddles.

Holding our fleet now water soaked and torn,

We kept our stories of defeat to ourselves as we had sworn.

No one was a loser as the world might proclaim,

In the coal camps on rainy days, we were winners all the same.

By : Dan R. Fowler

For: Astrid