the night heron, relaxing
at the top of z-channel
and the pointed teeth of the river invisible
in the low angled sun.
us four, under the tropical verdure,
paddling our way to church,
in acceptance of the forces greater than us
that make our lives great (or not).
last time I was here, the zambezi hole
was in, and you could feel the dinosaur
before you could even see the monstrous waves off her/his spine.
it’s good to get Michael out on the river, bow stalling his way down, and
J man never left, though his surfboard plus cockpit is a little squirrely, nor did Tom
who got a full upside down lap in the room before the second roll up and down the VA side.
there is Always a touch of the Fear. That’s what makes it the Dark Side,
it may never go away, but it can be avoided, that’s for sure.
