Saturday Afternoon On the Illinois  River
 
They come in droves
Color-coded
To whom they paid the rent
Riding the gentle current
With the sound of metal scraping rocks
The sound of metal crashing into metal
As some stop for a brief respite
From their circular journey.
 
White asses
Flashing below that rim of fat
That men have
Exposed as they disembark.
Long tan legs
Insolent in lawn chairs
Until the rapids take them.
 
Then watery thrashing for
Swamped coolers and cans
Of that elixir
That is the common theme.
 
And the canoes that carry them
Proud symbols of grace and wildness
Not one bright hull unmarred
From previous engagements.
 
Bumper boats
Avoiding the wary waders
Who surely need a stop light
Set mid-stream
For their protection.
 
Oh, where is Hiawatha?

If you enjoyed this poem, the book can be bought at Amazon, or at this web site: https://www.createspace.com/3526242
 
These poems are captured moments of her life snapshots in words, of places and people that helped shape the story of her life.  I am very proud of my family and especially Jody for being able to share them with others.

the earth is my mother. the sky is my father the animals are my brothers the canoe lets me get closer to them Paul Woodcock