I've always looked up to my big brother, both literally and figuratively.
Don't believe me?
You say you want proof?
Hope that's enough, because it's all you're getting.
The Water-skier
He steps first with his right, then with his left,
both into the blue and black wetsuit.
Without a word, he picks up his ski and slips
it into the dark water of early morning Powell.
He rises up, flashes his lady-killing smile, jumps,
and yells, “Play that funky music…”
He hits the calm water before finishing the line,
so we do it for him, yelling, “White boy!”
His hat still dry upon his head, he spins it backward,
drifts from the boat, and prepares to ski.
The rope tight and his face determined, he takes
a deep breath and calls, “Hit it!”, no going back.
The boat lunges forward, pulling the rider up and out
and ahead, instinct now rules his movements.
Wasting no energy, he is instantly outside the wake,
cutting and crossing with perfect accuracy.
Back and forth he goes, time seems to stand still,
no hint of the usual smile on his face.
Minutes, hours, seem to pass, the houseboat appears
in the distance, he knows soon the ride must end.
Two more cuts, he moves to the left side of the wake,
closer, closer, reflexes scream, he crosses.
The tension too much, he lets go and glides gracefully
to the rear of the houseboat, his hat is still dry.
His smile returns to his face as he waves to us and
he takes off his ski, time again returns to normal.
He knows how good he is, but doesn’t flaunt it,
the best water-skier I know, my brother, Adam.
Thanks for being such a great brother,
as well as an example of how to be both grown up and totally immature at the same time.
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