The River

The river
On lazy autumn mornings
Silently flows, flowing along
Gently lapping, lapping , lapping
Dawn's first light slowly reveals
Palisade meadows dripping in soft mist
With dew laden webs glistening in silver
And the pileated rapping, rapping, rapping

The river
Custodian of historical events
Keeper of lost ownership and memories
Lost to senility, sediment and flow
Silent now are the voices
of the trapper, bargemen and logger
The footsteps of the River Man
Washed away long ago

The river
One of the last sanctuaries for animal life
Where in canebreaks beaver play in the moonlight
Where geese and butterflies on thermals fly
Where in meadows of autumn splendor
Or on lofty palisade ledges
One may sit and dream
And touch the deep blue autumn sky

Roy L. Nave
October, 2002
Dix River
Highbridge, Ky