Take Me to the River
Lead me blindfolded
to its edge
hands out-stretched
feeling my way along willow root
slippery
pink granite
a floating amoeba
skirting cattails
holding onto rootlet reed & rhizome
in waiting to hitch a ride
on damsel fly’s
iridescent wing
swished as green moss
on pulverized stone
a-swirl in rings of eddies
alive with pickerel weed aroma
slip me naked and wet
between cracks
where ferns enmesh with stone
and detritus once caught
stays a while
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Who rolls this River?
We round the little cove toward Sugar Bush
wind whipping up turbines
small hands clutch the gunwale on both sides
the yellow wood put-put, flounced up and over
sideways in troughs
oncoming crests churned under; forming, reforming
…the audacious rock and roll of it
( it was the ‘50s after all )
rounding the point,
spray, high above the jut-rock headland
belted baby grand slabs of granite, pushed up on land
water music breaking into a rush of sparkles
nature grappled with, the challenge met
we dock triumphant like Iroquois braves
at one with the Great Spirit
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Northern Lights
Drops of randomness drank from
Hickory leaves
wood paneled walls struck with light
sun shafts
flooded halls by day
windows at midnight bore
borealis light
the star struck aura, dipped south
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