This isn’t the first time
I tried to try,
and started slow.
Walking down to the water,
I look upon its shifting surface,
trying to gauge
the speed of the current beneath.
I have felt its strength
and known its pull.
I have seen
the look in the eyes
of those who laugh in its tow.
I have heard their cries
as they were swept away;
further,
and further,
and then silent.
I watch for a time,
and listen to the sounds
of the forest,
in this early, winter dawn.
Stalking game,
and quiet meditation.
Fresh snowfall
hides all manner of sins.
The riverbank
lies in wait,
ready to betray
the unwary hunter,
but to the wise,
the diligent
and the careful;
it is a highway
to the wild world.
I stop,
and all is quiet.
for a moment,
all I hear
is the swirling water;
running like time,
running like plans,
inexorably forward.
Driving on
to tragedy,
or bounty.
My attention goes back
to the trail.
I shift the rifle on my shoulder
and continue on.
Stalking game,
while the future races
to a conclusion
from which I have currently
abstained.
HG – 2019
