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Youth Was Armor Enough
by Sarah Sadie

Remember when we pitched our tents,
young as we were, above Superior's gray shore,
and discovered there a steep path to the back
we hadn't seen before? Down it led us,
to a private cove, protected. From that vantage,
the whole lake could have been ours‐
imagine the luck!‐and no flies.

The water calm and the afternoon warm,
we stripped off our packs and all we'd worn
or carried, to wade into that ancient element
wearing nothing but youth.

Any blessing carries its shadow, sometimes for years,
folded like the wings of a bat at noon.
How grateful I am, friends, for that shared memory,
now that I have reached another interior shore,
this time alone, and again to strip down,
whatever I thought I could carry in, again
to enter the still and waiting waters.



 

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