Night River

Night River I cannot hear the river play tonight Current songs among the willow snags Or see the stars blinking like candle light Upon a rippling world of bullfrog brag; Nor heaving paddlewheels that used to burn A fiery path of light marking their way, Their frothing wooden blades that used to churn Night water into ghosts of moonlit spray I cannot see night ravens on the shore Or catch a willow bloom within my hand Knowing a river as in times before Leaving a footprint on the golden sand. I cannot catch what is no longer there Except within a dream, within a prayer. —Billy C. Clark 37 ...