Scullers at Dawn

Arne Weingart

Like all artists

you start out in the dark

pushing off

alone from the silent docks

of the thousand

black rivers and black lakes

with no special

purpose in mind not transport

or carnage

or measurement not even

for pleasure

exactly but for speed in

these narrow

fragile boats you tie in and

you move your slides

forward you set your hands

at the catch

and now all at once you pull

the sun explodes

like blood behind your eyes

and the black world

moves under you toward morning