Ten Days on the Water

—Voyageurs National Park

The leader is stuck with me as his canoe companion,
as I lack strength to paddle far. Noah slices
choppy water with an easy stroke. We are first,
a rag-tag group of canoes behind us, unable to keep up.
They are kids I went to high school with but did not know

because I was mostly alone. The biology teacher
and his wife are chaperones. Once in a while,
Noah pulls the canoe over, waits for everyone
to catch up, wants to give us all treats, like seeing
golden wildflowers climbing the edges of a rocky  

island or watching a group of floating loons. He pulls ahead
again, a gleaming god in our silver canoe, large pack
between us, me at the head, doing my level best not to
embarrass myself too badly. When we stop, we float, waiting
for the others to appear. He converses, and I answer

his questions about me going to college in a few weeks while
he tells me about Purdue. He enjoys my rapt attention. For lunch,
canoes gather. We eat peanut butter sandwiches and prunes.
Evenings we cook something instant over a fire, with Noah
later climbing the tallest tree to stash our pack of food  

away from bears. A tent for females and one for males,
though Noah has his own hidden away. I grow close to him.
I love his easy laugh and silences, his muscled body.
He is a tanned fantasy. One afternoon, when we turn a corner
far from everyone else, he says, come here. I carefully 

edge my way to him, shaky on shimmering water. Bend closer,
he says, and stands, pulling me in. It is my first real kiss.
I love tasting his warm tongue, and I tremble back to my post.
The loneliness of being with strangers slips away. I have a secret
now, something every female on this trip would like to have.  

The sky pops blueness over clear water. Here, he says,
smiling. He hands me a cup of water dipped from the lake.
Our hands meet and we reach for another kiss. I nearly
drop the silver cup into icy water, not anticipating his
wildly tender gaze as we float nowhere, nearly dinnertime.

Virginia Chase Sutton's second book, What Brings You to Del Amo, winner of the Morse Poetry Prize, was recently reissued as a free ebook by Doubleback Books/Sundress. Embellishments was her first book, Of a Transient Nature was her third, and Down River was her chapbook. Sutton's poems have won a scholarship to Bread Loaf, the Allen Ginsberg Poetry Award, and the National Poet Hunt, among many other prizes, awards, and residencies. Seven times nominated for a Pushcart Prize, her poems have appeared in The Paris Review, Ploughares, Mom Egg Review, Cortland Review, Glass Literary Journal, and many other literary poems, journals, and anthologies. She lives in Tempe, Arizona.