memory and imagination traverse time and space
The hill is swoopy and teases my mow cart’s centre of gravity. I lean counter and picture a copra canoe with an outrigger last seen in elementary school.
It’s an image in a primer, generations out of print. An image inked with happy memory and housed in childhood, that depository of perfect bindings.
It’s an idyllic impression of indigenous folk, tending a boat under a warm sun. All the time in the world, in a timeless world of artistic imagination.
Pushing arms like oars, I too ride low-slung. Zero-turn navigator in a dreamy diorama. Sun-brave sailor of fescue waves, slicing a swath through self-directed days.
