Tag Archives: rivers

The night before I was watching the weather radar every hour.  Long lines of green crawling up from the south; bad news for us.  We wanted to float the Big Coal River in the morning.  My son and I communicated … Continue reading

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From Dartmont to Lock Four

Take Two Posted on October 24, 2021 by labeak52 It’s a cool forty-plus degrees as we strap the canoe to the top of the SUV.  The thought that we might have waited a little too long to make this trip crosses my mind, … Continue reading

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From Dartmont to Lock Four

It’s a cool forty-plus degrees as we strap the canoe to the top of the SUV.  The thought that we might have waited a little too long to make this trip crosses my mind, but I dismiss it quickly.  My … Continue reading

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morning poem, November 8, 2016

    This morning there is traffic on the river The first boat pushes a barge of coal At the first lock the station man opens the gate And the barge floats in like a cloud It’s hollow thud against … Continue reading

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morning poem, December 3, 2015

    He stands knee deep in the little river in gabardene pants It’s 1959, and he has brought his son here To this place where he spent his own boyhood. He has a job now and bills to pay … Continue reading

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morning post, september 8, 2015

One of the nice things about being an empty nester is being able to travel outside of the school calendar. We’re enjoying the benefit of that right now as we are ensconced in a log cabin high in the mountains … Continue reading

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Running The River

Because the mines were worked out long ago, the river itself is now clear and beautiful.  But the houses that line its banks are a shambles.  Some – the worst of them – are the remnants of pre-war mining camps.  Shacks with … Continue reading

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Morning On The River

At grey dawn the coarse fish lie on the sandy bottom like low organ chords   In bright day schools of silversides rush and wheel in refracted light like a swirling harp.   A pair of trout shiver and dart … Continue reading

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Morning Poem, April 21, 2015

. The hail was loud on the face of the river Coming in harder waves with each flash of lightning Eleven million splashes, level and even Like a low boil The tiny white pellets dying quick deaths in the warm, … Continue reading

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Afternoon Poem, March 7, 2015

ON THE RIVER:  A DREAM (Part V) I did not feel fear until night fell I had missed my landing, I knew The old man had given me clear directions But as I considered it now, it was clear that … Continue reading

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