By Campbell Collins

The gloomy clouds hang just above the trees
But we, determined, dive, and once again
Uphold tradition. Rising now, the breeze
Ripples the lake and warns us of the rain.
Yet on we swim, small froggish strokes, and rush
Ungainly toward the hazy, distant beach.
The journeys mark each summer out for us:
The year a cousin feared for snakes beneath
And, wide-eyed, watched the deep for slithering things.
The year that, scratched and bruised but blind to pain, 
We scaled the far shore’s rocks and stood as kings.
And this the final trip: the mighty rain
That, in our boldest crossing, we outpaced,
Outstripping childhood also, in the race.

Campbell Collins received the 2025 Barnes Award for Excellence in Poetry for this poem.