rowing slowly away

it was a long

summer.

we complained about the heat

mostly.

but the flies

too

and the grey rain

when storms blew in

over the water.

we weren't happy.

we were

bored with each other.

with the food,

the fishing rods

the rented canoes.

we were done with

the smell of mildew,

with our lives,

who we had become,

where were in life.

ten years of this,

and yet,

here we were again

on the shore of a lake

in a cottage

for three months.

sometimes the crickets

were thunderous

at night.

we would, of course,

tell everyone when we got

home

of the fun.