River

The river flows as it must toward the sea

While its surface reflects all the feelings in me

The breeze breaks the surface in ripples and dips

The sky is reflected distorted by this

Fish break the surface from shallows and depths

While gulls, ducks and osprey dip feet and wing tips

Motor boats speed while kayaks float slow

All making waves on the surface as they go

At night all is quiet, it's smooth as plate glass

Resting and preparing for when dawn comes at last

And always, still always, the flow toward the sea

The current of the river carries hearts of poets like me.

The mighty St. Lawrence, Alexandria Bay, New York.