Three Images

Three Images

The image, the boat, the phrases,

Blended together they did their thing.

First, they turned the key,

Then, they let out the clutch,

Finally, they put my idling mind into gear.

Bringing to life the time machine                           

That I keep parked, third coil on the left,

Ready to escape, back in time,

Whenever desire to go back might arise.

Even though the years keep taking their toll

I can still control how far back I want to go.

Three different times have stepped forward

Moving others to the back, as they take

The left, right, and center positions,

In the forefront, of my now, turbulent mind.

Each one fits perfectly with the list of prompts.

With the exception of the Valley of the Wind

And, I am betting I can even fit that in.

So I am opting for all three, told in poetic prose.

Feel free to climb aboard my time machine with me.

Ready, all set, then it is off we go to three places see.

Three places with boats on the water and love in the air.

The first stop is on a river, almost a thousand miles long.  One that has heard many a Native American song, one that has an island or more for every mile it is long.  The time is before 1978, a spontaneous getaway, no children yet in the way. With the pretense of fishing, a boat rented for the day.   We found ourselves in a backwater bay, surrounded by tall maples, oaks and pines shielding us from view, while beavers worked at felling a poplar or two.  The morning grew hot, as did we two, so when I peeled off my shirt, my wife did to. My reaction was swift and visible to, with a laugh she said, “Now that won’t do.” Then, immediately, taking off the rest of hers, followed by my clothes too. I remember a beaver tail slapping as we became consumed, I don’t think he liked the waves we were making in his backwater lagoon. It was not the only time; we lay in each other’s arms that day. Two countries treated to similar displays, in much the same way, as were the waters of a very un-secluded bay. All in all, a memorable day, yet for some reason, I can’t remember if any fish got in the way.

I hope you are all still with me, at least those of a similar mind, for it is time once again to head back in time.  To an island in the Pacific, one where the dolphins do play, not the biggest or the smallest, yet it’s the one known the best. You’ll find it fourth to the left of where the goddess Pele does play.  The island known for a diamond upon its head, the one oft remembered for a day when planes came through a spot known as Kole Kole Pass. I knew that I could get it in, a line about the valley of wind. For on this island, is an amazing place called the Pali Pass, where the winds from the valley rise straight up into the air. A place, where one must use care, for both hats and skirts, freely rise into the air. Follow the LikeLike Highway down from the pass to a canal that runs straight and true, between mountains made of concrete and steel colored with a rainbow of hues. The boats on this canal, back in circa 1973, were round. Boats with no bows, boats with no sterns, some kept them going straight, but most made them spin round and round. Add the effects of an exotic drink or four, and many a boat had no one in view. Blend together, alcohol, passion, and spin, and exotic becomes erotic as bodies meshed together with the force of the spin. No one complains, no one seems to care, but in Hawaii, in circa 73, sex, though often enjoyed in the open, was not always free, and if you weren’t careful she could be a he.

It’s time to board my time machine again, to go back a bit further both to the east and in time, to a river in a desert back in 1969. Though they call it a lake, it is still a river, just one now stopped by a dam. This body of water; deep and pristine, at the time, known for its white circle of lime. Still in the middle of the desert at that time, one could go out at night and not see a bright light of any kind. Unless one were to look off to the west, where the sky seemed to glow, from the power the water through the dam let flow. Still out on the lake the darkness did reign, sucking in any light, a big black hole with a ring of white.  A perfect place, to spend a hot summer night; locked in the arms of your love, covered only with a blanket of stars. With nobody to see, and no one to care, free to do whatever you care. 

Allow me to step back out of my time machine,

For my three images, I have allowed all to see.

I can’t recreate them; time has taken its toll,

On both the author, and the waters that flow.

Especially, the river, where once shimmered a great lake,

A lake growing smaller every day, while cash registers ring.

The water, now on the other side of the dam you see

Used to make a desert, grow fruit for you and me.

Thank God, these three images, still live on,

Stored away, safely in my mind’s eye for me,

Ready for me. Whenever or whichever, I desire to see.

©November 18, 2016

Richard Nurse

 This poem was written in response to a prompt based on the picture below. Thank you to +Laughing waters for allowing the use of this photo.