Ouachita River Ditty

from a Family float trip June 22, 2002

I have seen the blood of Terra running red,

albeit rare

and more like rust, than crimson,

colored in the rinse of ruddy plains and that strange

Cream-of-Tomato dirt, in Oklahoma.

I’ve seen it too, where her blood runs blue

like mirrors held against a Colorado sky:

But here in Arkansas,

beneath the paddle stoke

the open veins of Terra tumble

in the stuff of our state color:

Camo.

Indeed, this is the kingdom of the chloroplast;

Every shade of chlorophyll on God’s green earth

is dripping from the paddle blades, pouring over jaded rocks --

carpeting the hills, exploding like whipped algae

with highlights of celery, or the little

moss on train sets, only big.

Here is the stuff of new green and old-green,

teen–green and China,

green tea and burnt-pea,

limon, and lima,

pine-tree and kiwi,

forest and kelp,

verdant and virile with

spiral of vine –

Oh,

Here is the stuff of

leaf blade

and night shade,

grass snakes, and hoppers,

ten thousand lawns and

leprechaun daughters

(Laughing as they pour,

without canoe

down mint colored rapids.)

Oh,

Here is the stuff

of olive and eye and tornadic sky

and bullfrogs and soldiers and

old moldy cheese.

SNEEEZE…

Oh,

Here is the stuff

of emerald and Kelly

‘n smelly fresh things,

bean stalks and belfries

and twiggies with wings.

Oh here

is the dead naked light

all clean, cold and gold

splashing

back at the sun,

cell over cell

all virid

with life.

.