A Keepsake

When I was eight or nine,
 I took a trip up north with my brother, my father
 and my uncle
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 We woke up early and packed bagged lunches
 and cans of pop into a cooler,
 and drove to a canoe rental in Mesick
 We split up in two canoes
 I imagined us as Lewis and Clark,
 charting acres of unspoiled land
 as the Manistee opened up like a canvas
 We crawled at a slow, lazy pace
 and reached the landing as the sun began to slide
 behind the horizon,
 and pulled our boats ashore
 It was still warm and we were exhausted
 so we jumped into the water to cool off,
 as my uncle launched into a speech
 about the history of the Petoskey stone
 and how rare it would be to find any here
 Then he reached into the river bed
 and pulled one out on his very first try
 We spent the rest of our time trying to find another one
 but came up empty-handed