This Rowboat

Catching my own reflection 

from the waters beside the boat,

I recoil in consternation

at the expression that I tote.

I recall the dull echoes

of the things I used to do,

Signing, sighing, emailing

people in the morn' at two.


"Greetings, Professor Keillerstare,

How do you do?

I'm Insun Yoon, contacting you!

I heard from Mrs. Weisburd,

that you need a math nerd, 

a student with physics learned,

high points in the class earned.


Indeed, I am.

Am a math nerd,

with physics learned, 

and high points earned. 

Calculus AB, BC,

Physics 1 and Chemistry.

All of these, I took with ease.

All AP, if you please.


I wish to learn

more science, earn

experience, leave naught unturned.

Can I begin to imagine

the dragons of our religion

bellowing a soft decision

of a new intern,

with your precision?"


Now drifting in an ocean,

in the carcass of a tree,

I see, in elevation,

the genius of reverie.

Never was sent the letter,

but an intern I became

donned forever in sweater,

in a sanguine glow of "Tame."


The money of that low job

was nonexistent but fair,

as I was paid with a knob

to a place of science air.

But it didn't take me long

to see science everywhere,

to know I wasn't special

in the logic that I share.


No matter who has what brain,

the capacity is locked,

unless one removes the strain 

that mind has in deadlock.

An exclamatory stress

as my spine creaked upwards slow

from the horizontal dress

of my body's stubborn low.


"That's it!" I cried with guffaw,

the shore closing in on me,

I was trembling with awe,

but do I jump or hold tree?

The boat whined in a question

of stay or of happy leave

as I argued cessation

would warrant worldly reprieve.


The tree carcass is a shelter,

the science in me bellowed,

in rain or attack, better

than any muscled fellow.

In desperation, it burns,

in the fair weather, it shades.

In wilderness untravelled, 

we'd best keep the boat restrained.


An awkward pitter-patter

as my useless arms splish-splash,

but soon I'm at the matter

of boat with sand in tame crash.

Hauling my heavy load in,

I chuckle in wondrous fear

at the scientist within,

clad with intelligence sheer.


But a scientist she's not,

for she's in everyone,

but the one boat that I brought

will keep me from fate done.

With luck, I kept boat near me,

so I think what really stuck

is that the one thing that is key

is not boat nor brain, but luck.

This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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