History Lesson

We were in a boat, you and I,
in the middle of the river, near the water gap
on the Delaware not too many miles north
of the point where Washington had crossed
with his men on Christmas Day more than two hundred years
before. You had pointed this out to me because
you cared about things like that - and because
it was you who was telling me - then I cared too.
I envisioned that famous painting of him
standing in the bow of the rowboat,
snow falling on his shoulders, the
sky and water grey with ice,
his soldiers huddled on the
hard wooden benches
grim and rigid with cold.
He was pointing his finger straight
ahead at the shore and the other
side where the enemy and uncertainty
and death likely waited.

And I was happy I was with you,
in a much smaller rowboat
more than two hundred years later
on just another day in the middle of
September, sun hitting the rocks
and ricocheting back into my eyes,
The trees, their leaves just beginning to turn,
standing like sentries on either side of the
long amber ribbon of water, it was
so clear you could see the sand on the bottom
and seemed to stretch forever before us
just flowing till somewhere up ahead it met the sky
We were just floating, the heat and silence washing through
and over and around us, suspended, we were held
in a moment that promised nothing but peace
and I pointed this out to you
because I cared about things like that -
and because it was me who was telling you-
then you cared too.