Parade

As with this Jet Ski family
          braiding the lake
with bigger and bigger shocks
until the one
          car-sized one
cuts his engine
and, following him, for an instant
          they all coast
through silences
of self-made
          rain—

how much is required now
                     to carve,
out of the general
livable quiet,
          independence?

More Poems by Nate Klug