2024, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry, Prose Poem, river life, work

from ‘the river north to South Point’ (for Amanda)

My love, I want to describe to you the waxing crescent rising opposite the setting sun: the waters of the Ohio sitting calm, cut like lead crystal — lovely and unreflective. And the moon, the moon Beloved, cutting open the evening sky, an eternity of pink red orange into another endless river.

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2024, Haiku, Ohio River Valley Literature, poetry

from ‘the river north to South Point’ [broken haiku]


tied up at Greenup lock
still water, still air
three AM — waiting

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2024, Ohio River Valley Literature, prose, river life, Working Class Literature

from ‘the river north to South Point’ [And the congregation pushes on…]

11.03.24.1521 hrs

2nd cup of Coffee. 2 hrs 39 minutes until watch.

Standing on the back of the Broaddus, starboard, eating a bowl of Mate Matt Kemp’s made from scratch biscuits and gravy — the biscuit broken into pieces, the way a civilized person eats. We’re rolling northeast. The landscape  is hilly; we’re in the bottom of the Appalachian foothills. The sun is burning the last of the overnight chill out of my bones. The hum of the tug G Walker’s engines play in time with the sounds of our wake in a light breeze.

I know I am not one of the lords of the earth; but I am a happy river pebble being pushed along. These divine moments of peace are part of what makes this life the best I have ever lived.

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