River Notes

I heard the noise before I saw the evidence,

They had built a bypass on the road, 35.

Over the land by the old bridge,

The people swooped on their way

To get pizza on the east side,

A broom, a set of tires.

My heart sank,

I saw the new construction was in the way

Of where I played as a child,

In the way of birds, turtles and foxes,

Too near the rapids where I now saw

Those familiar sun shining waters –

Sparkling alone and matter-of-fact,

Here; this shallow, wash river,

Passing deeply between islands,

Running thin and clear over river stones

Too long since I had felt their incomplete,

Crunchy, roughness beneath my thankful feet.

Now, I wanted to just not touch it -

For fear of causing more damage,

I just wanted to hold it in my eyes

Quietly.

It had already passed from its own history.