Invitation

A crooked finger of stone stretching into water offers

an invitation to wade

into cool blue,

minnows panicking away 

until you stand, still as the surface,

so long the bravest–most curious?–

bump, the tiny taps gentle

as the first nudge of inspiration.

or perhaps to dock

an odd boat–

small, frail, 

the sort of thing you once made

(fashioned is too fancy a word)

from a bit of branch or bark–

sliding it into the shallow shelter

Behind the bent, beckoning knuckle,

safe from any storm building in towering clouds.