Saturday Mornings with Dr. Gordon Lang by Taji Phillips

A steady tread,

Glassy rivulets,

Over your body I move.

Expansive, Extensive, 

The unmarked vastness,

Forcefully pressing against.

Burning your surface,

Harder and faster and 

Swifter through the wake. 

Legs on fire,

Forearms like lead,

I break with every cut of the blade.

Through the line,

Unequaled relief,

Heavy breaths flow in and out.

At gentle pace,

The harbor waits, 

Yet, once more, I will begin. 

As ripples rise, 

My limits climb and

All burdens cast away.

*Dr. Gordon Lang refers to the straight four that I row in. It is not referring to the person the boat was dedicated to.*

Collection of "Notes" by Asia Moore

I Think Therefore I Am by Michele Nsianya