After I drop my son off at preschool I have a precious hour all by myself before I have to drive the afternoon school bus run, and I usually spend it walking around Carburn Park. I walk there and sit by the Bow River for a while, and look for deer, which I always see there, and never when I'm looking for them. In fact on Wednesday I nearly walked straight into one, which looked a little less startled than I was myself. (They are quite used to clumsy, senseless people stomping around and not looking where they're going.) Anyway I have to acknowledge these walks are inspiring lots of rivery poems.
The watery voice of the river
It speaks in a pebbly tongue
Murmuring the secrets of hidden stones
Just beside blank grey civilization.
It quietly gurgles in treasures of silence
Point and counterpoint with a
Water and sun embrace as lovers
I cannot look for long at the joy
of their encounters, for
it marks my face with a lasting blush.