for Ginny Kirshner
     Don't be fooled by Sudbury's sluggish
stream, this place is restless with
            rivers: those that flow straight to the
                        sea, direct, no nonsense, all business,
                   doing what needs to be done, or those
      that prefer to meander, taking their time,
  exploring the nooks and crannies, yet arriving
                  much the same, and even those that love to go white
            water, always roiled, excited, exploding with
         shots of steam and spray. But there was one river

          here that cut a deep channel, a stream that knew
  its source, running clear the only way it
              could, full flood, flat out, carrying all before
     it on a spirit red as dawn, joyous, flowing
'round boulders, through cracks, finding a way,
              with life flying past on the banks, moving us
       swiftly, more deeply into the very nature of
                  rivers, of how they seek their beds, and urge
   themselves on to the places they must go.

November 18, 1991

All written material © Bill Schechter, 2016
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