Garnet Poems: An Anthology of Connecticut Poetry Since 1776

The River of Rivers in Connecticut

61 WAll ACe stevens The River of Rivers in Connecticut There is a great river this side of Stygia, Before one comes to the first black cataracts And trees that lack the intelligence of trees. In that river, far this side of Stygia, The mere flowing of the water is a gayety, Flashing and flashing in the sun. On its banks, No shadow walks. The river is fateful, Like the last one. But there is no ferryman. He could not bend against its propelling force. It is not to be seen beneath the appearances That tell of it. The steeple at Farmington Stands glistening and Haddam shines and sways. It is the third commonness with light and air, A curriculum, a vigor, a local abstraction . . . Call it, once more, a river, an unnamed flowing, Space-filled, reflecting the seasons, the folk-lore Of each of the senses; call it, again and again, The river that flows nowhere, like a sea. ...