The Millennial Pedestrian

Evening on the Esopus River

I’m sitting on a chair-shaped rock,
smelling the smell of
water scouring round smooth stones,
watching Wally fish the river.

I almost can’t see
the trailer park,
the sunlight mirrored
from the moving silver stream’s
so strong, so bright.
The river’s rush drowns out
the whiz of passing cars
on Route 212.

The sun has nearly set
and cool air just now moving on the leaves
will push away the heat.

Wally stands in dappled water,
holding up a nine-inch Brown.
He doesn’t know that I can see him
but he holds it up.

This entry was posted on Friday, December 30th, 2005.
It's part of the Old Poems category.
Feel free to leave a comment at the bottom of the page.
You can be alerted via RSS when a comment on this post is made.
You can get an email when a new piece of writing is added to the site.