From the middle Of a canoe I sit, Uncomfortably Leaning on tent pack. I glance at Mom, Panting, paddling, Looking for portage trail. Soaked to skin I sit, In puddle, In canoe In rain, Looking quite hard For campsite. Much later, in tent, I hunt mosquitos. Zzzz. . . zap! Peacefully I listen To wilderness Singing me to sleep, Loons call, Trees whisper, Beauty of silence Never meant more To me.