Ichetucknee

ICHETUCKNEE

We may yet call this river, God.

It contains everything

In the world we know

Translucent waters flashing

The pain, the toxicity, the

Solemn vastness of peace.  

Harmonic eclipse of impending doom as

Weary timbers clatter from the banks

Across the divide to

Inhibit, as the Gulf of Iran Blockade,

Any forward passage of our plastic skiffs.

Otters slip through broiling rivlets,

Great Blue Herons navigate

like ancient Pterodactyl’s

The narrow slit of river

Where Piliated Woodpeckers delight

Their newly exposed treats,

Tiny pan fish nibble carelessly on our toes, as

Giant cypress soldiers stare imperiously

Occupying ground along  these soggy banks,

Assuring,  “We’ve been here

A very long time.”

Welcome.

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