She who made us two,
we are now three
of the four who used to be.

He, gone these two decades,
who taught her to skim over water
on first two, then one, ski,

and, after we came along,
they put us in the boat
he made with his father

and, after nudging us through
every Red Cross swimming level,
put us on skis behind the boat, too.

His boat still sits in the garage,
which we all still think of as
his, waiting.

One day, we two will put
that boat in that lake
across the road from

the house where they
raised us, and one last time
we will put the two of them

together in the water
that baptized us all.
Amen.