An Outing


It was humid – August –

they were preparing their boats for excursion,

the pickup trucks scurried about the highways,

they were gathering up food and drink

placing them carefully in store.


It was blinding – sunny –

they reached for sunglasses due to the reflecting sunlight,

their boats skimming the lake,

the water stood calm, cold and inviting,

this, their summer wonderland.


But what of these things? What will remain –

smoked cigarettes, drank sodas,

beer, fuel consumed,

the wet bathing suit left to dry over the side of the tub?


What of this is gain –

a sunburn, sun screen washed away,

food, garbage created,

the bruise earned when falling from the skis.


What more of these things? Of what purpose –

the laughter, the joy,

a day together, bonding,

the snapshots of faces frozen in happy pursuits.


Of this all, it is to be human.

Perhaps in consumption or folly

do we often exist or entertain.

Yet the means lead to an end of shared memories.

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About John White

I've written off and on my entire life. It took years for me to finally take putting words together seriously. Now it's not, nor does it ever feel, like work. Writing daily has become habitual. No day is complete without words having appeared on the page.

Posted on August 28, 2014, in Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. That is deep, good poem!

  2. … it’s Labor Day weekend and you caught it all… stop over at sometime and join our poetry club

  3. Thanks for following me, I am glad you enjoyed my work. I really appreciate having the support of quality writers like you. Thank you.

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