Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Before the Rapids

Above the water,
scavenger wings, foreboding.
Feathers, blackened lines against the sky
Vultures stalking prey.

Below, my arms extend with paddle
and fierce grief, hurting inside.
Sun finger-paints the river against shadows
and overhanging tree nets.

Ahead, downstream, granite boulders rise,
in clusters, teeth-like, ready to bite the kayak
to splinters on fierce roiling froth,
same as love gone bad.

Current, turbulence, savage waves strike,
thrusting me toward rapids.
Alarmed, with dread,
I lunge forward.

At the bend, beneath surface,
churning force, water roars with icy fists
pounding, slamming, trapping me
inside my distress.

I claw toward the light
to catch my breath, to stare with awe
at the stranger who eases me
to the beach.


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Prompt: force