Along the lazy, tranquil, rushing, surging river,
Dense hatches of gnats and mayflies
Briefly cloud the banks and darken the skies.
For feeding fish, they’re a life giver.
Below the rippled surface, rocks lurk near.
They never move, yet break the flow
Of dividing currents, some fast some slow,
The river tells me, place the oars here.
Logjams and sweepers, hazards seen and unseen.
Jagged branches and limbs, clumps of spruce and willow,
Edged volcanic rocks covered by a watery billow.
I see them from the raft, and float around them, or between.
Currents and eddies wash soil away in restless motion.
Massive trees – Aspen, Cottonwood, Spruce – they fall
To answer the Snake River’s hungry call.
We are all pulled along, down, down to the distant ocean.
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