Today's poem is Loon Cove by Matt O'Donnell. It is read by Julia Bouwsma.
Loon Cove
Local knowledge tells of good fishing
on the southern lip. He rests his paddle, drifts
with the canoe in quiet water over a ledge
that runs the lake's width. The line unspools
an arcing trill while, silent as bait,
he casts again toward the rocks, sees her there,
treading water where, stretched, she could stand.
He reels back to that time when, regardless of words,
they curled in the dry sand, searched the clouds
lightening from rain sinking Pine Island
just to the west. With one stroke he could change
momentum, pull away—or closer—a wake in swirls.
The only movement is the curdled air of a loon
echoing for its mate somewhere nearer shore.