Sinuous channels
cut through the
river's muddy
bottom,
carrying clear water
ever downward
- ever onward.
From fortress walls
it's all been seen --
drought and flood,
but something always
trickled through.
As it was before those
stones were stacked.
As it will be when the
last rubble crumbles
into uncut
dust & rock.
boulder-strewn gorge:
what ancient waters could move
what now can't be budged?
creek that trickles
through a stark winterscape —
days from riverhood.
a plank of wood
floats downriver past houses
clustered on the bank.
We kayak where lives Hippopotamus,
And hope it isn't submerged, a-bottom us.
With kayak a quite crunchy hard shell --
Us: savory filling that screams and yells, --
We'll be a three-bite river taco to hell.
the river widens,
slows / stopping, in places;
so goes my mind.
Winter mornings:
fog forms on the river --
moments numbered.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 