Out of Gas by Arlin Buyert


The door to the old cabin’s musty garage
creaks open and in the early light,
a faded twin hull Bayliner perched

on concrete blocks and
enmeshed with silky webs
sighs a stranded note in a minor key

about waves and water skis, Grandpa
Holm’s fishing pole, Adolph’s tackle box,
Fourth of July, excited children

and blue vinyl seats
cracked wide open, exposing
a dusty refrain of yellow foam rubber.

9 Responses to “Out of Gas by Arlin Buyert”

  1. Jeanie Schiefelbusch Says:

    I can envision the old Bayliner in the the musty garage, and wonder and imagine the memories and tales it could tell us about it’s life. Thanks for sharing Arlin!

  2. Stephanie Henry Says:

    Arlin, a real strong nostalgic twist. Congratulations. Obviously I figured out how to open it!

  3. This poem certainly is not out of gas. I can hear the hinges creak.
    Thanks, Arlin.

  4. Pat Johnson Says:

    I can even smell the motor oil, Arlin. Spot on.

  5. Kimi Nelson Says:

    Love the poem, Arlin! Your images are so vivid and bring back many lake memories.

  6. Arlin Buyert Says:

    Thank you all for your kind words. Arlin.

  7. Bob Dowma Says:

    Hey, Arlin- Great piece of work! Macalester College took you away from the farm but couldn’t take the farm away from you. As a fellow musician, I loved the “sighs a stranded note in a minor key”. Could actually see the “blue vinyl seats cracked wide open” and the yellow foam rubber.
    Your fellow Macalester classmate and basketball teammate. Bob

  8. Carl Anderson Says:

    Arlin, Congrats, love the clear images both of the physical things (especially the concrete blocks – the all purpose prop for old things!) as well as the times associated with those things. Makes a connection with my memory of my dad’s old pontoon that he loved to go fishing on. Thanks, Carl

  9. Arlin Buyert Says:

    Carl, thank you for your kind comments.

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