Howling River

Running the wild howling river,

Battling intensely against current,

Flying down the flume and flush,

Foam and flurry of rock piercing water,

Sleekly and swiftly the canoe collides,

Bounced, buffeted by push and pull,

Nearly jacked out of my perch,

Bestriding fragile gunwales,

Bound in sheets of birch bark,

Thrice sealed in pine tree pitch,

And down shallow falls, we go

Into the mouth of a placid pool,

Running rivers running gauntlets

Of challenge, risk and chance,

A test of stress, aquatics dance.



Copyright©  by Robert Wetmore
All Rights Reserved