Poem for a Left-Behind Camera

I had a great time racing on my friend Brian Fisher’s J/42 Isabella last night. I had a lot less free time than I thought I would during the race, so I was never able to use my little Canon camera when we were racing. Sorry. I did, however, manage to leave it on the boat when the guys dropped me off at Conanicut Marina. Around 3 am today, I woke up with a start, listening to a downpour. “Shit, my camera,” I thought, but then hope  (and dawn) dawned. I sent Brian an e-mail, thanking him for a great night of racing (sorry, Tim), and asking if he’d grabbed my camera out of the cockpit. Poetry is found in the oddest places, and written by people who you never thought would ever write any, here’s Brian’s reply to my e-mail:

I did grab it

but I dropped it

then Mark stepped on it

then we almost forgot it when leaving

so other Mark threw it to me

and I didn’t catch it

it got wet

then the launch ran it over

but we saved it with a fishing net

then I left it at the club

Here’s to you, Brian, and to your firm grasp of iambic pentameter, style, and wit. Good luck in England this weekend, and don’t forget to bring food (and fireworks).


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