The River Song (Written February 19)

The River Song


The wind bundles itself into a bluish cloud

That moves over the white-capped mountain.

A bear comes down through the trees


And stands very still by the river’s edge,

Watching me. A deep winter freeze

Has turned this morning’s rain to ice


And made my journey all the more

Difficult. I’ve passed this way twice

But have yet to find my way out.


My wife and children wait for me below,

At the lodge. I can almost hear them shout

And give voice to their worry.


The sky grows dark, and the bear

Turns away, but I must not hurry

And make one mistake too many.

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