at twenty-five
borrowed
the wooden rowboat
next door
and rowed us
across
the water of cape
cod bay.
i remember
the leaks,
the cold wash against
my feet.
sisters clinging
to the seats.
i remember watching
him
pulling at the oars,
taking us
for ice cream
on the other side.
my mother, with
her arms
around her.
still on the shore,
crying.
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