White Water Rapids
The white water rapids
Frothing and foaming,
The slick black rocks
Moaning and groaning,
The west wind howling,
The tree jamb growling
As it creeks and sneaks
Its way through the narrow channel
Like a rabid wet dog,
Running wild and fast,
On the raging river’s back.
An eagle soars by
With selective eye
Cavorting, careening
With high pitched keening,
As it swoops and dips
Talons and wing tips,
Diving and wishing
For old time fishing.
Once there were birch bark canoes,
Ponies and moccasin shoes
Imprinting the shore,
But that was before
Civilization and dredges
Tore down mountain ledges;
Before pollution invaded
And these waters were jaded.
An eagle soars by.
A tear falls from his eye,
In this twilight noon,
For things done too soon.
Once … there were birch bark canoes.