September 3, 2021

South Fork of the New River, Pt. 1

The light feels earlier 
than the time truly is.
Canine pawprints 
mark fresh mud
from a recent flood
as we stroll through a
vestibule of restless trees,
on our way to a river
we will hear rather than see.

Its low-lit song
before the brunt of day
will soothe and calm 
the questions my heart
awakens daily with asking.
We are travelling, and 
while this may not be
our town, it is our river –
and it calls us by name.

South Fork of the New River, Pt. 2

The black lab we follow
has an endearing wiggle to his hips --
they swish left as his spine
switches right, and vice versa, 
his tail swinging back and forth
like a busy rudder, maintaining 
balance as well as direction. 
Trotting with a body-full of 
sinuous anticipation, he knows 
exactly where he is headed. 
The river knows him by name 
as well,
 and he hears its call.