The Riverbank

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

 

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