Susens Engelska Dikter English Poetry 9: The Poultney River

The Poultney River
The most memorable of that day,
was the beautiful, clear music of the river
I urged to describe it, but the words were missing.
I tried streaming rain and boiling water,
but  did no justice to the music.

The stream was whirling along its path.
The current whipped the water to whitish foam,
like whipped cream, or bouncing cotton balls.
The rippling song of the river followed us, as we walked,
constantly changing.
Only the lyrics were missing, or so I thought,
but realized that nature works in perfect synchronized harmony,
where lyrics are made of other than printed letters.

I filled the missing lyrics with my thoughts,

which made the concept of the song beautiful to me.
The sky was blue, filled with clouds in different shapes and forms.
Suddenly more music added.
An uncountable amount of geese,
shaping a V high up in the sky, singing their farewell.

Autumn was coming to an end.

Winter was moving in on all living.
The birds were moving south, while we had to stay and struggle.
The deciduous trees were losing their leaves.
Red, yellow and orange.
The stunning colors covered the entire ground,
like an enormous rug, or carpet, laid out for a special occasion.

The half-naked branches made me wish for spring,

but at the same time they opened up a wider view.
The water was cold, crisp and clean.
I found milkweed, ragweed and rhubarb,
I stumbled over foxtail, or was it timothy grass?
I picked it gently to avoid ruin its root system.

I saw an empty birdhouse standing on a high pole.

A chikadee was flying over it;  irony striked nature.
A rusty milk container; human negligence.
I spoted evidence of deer in their resting place,
shivered while thinking of experts on the skill: the Indians.
What an awesome feeling.

It was a good day at the Poultney River.

We were not alone, or at all quiet.
How many species did we scare away?
Nature sang to us, and we repaid it by screaming.
The river is always there though.
Waiting, constantly moving, changing its scenery as well as its song.

                                       Susen M J©2000

Foto: Susens tankar

The Poultney River, Vermont. USA