What remedy
For the river
Never sopped
But caught up
In wetting cycles
Uncalled for
Until complaining
Up the ditch
This wiffs
Of Cambrian slip
And me foolish
Fossil hunting
Again
Amid the fiddleheads
The door
To the river
Leads me
To transport
In ghosts
Them
Made contraband merry
Sold their ferry time
To empty
Slave in threats
Trading posts
For getaway logs
Tom McGlynn
copyright 2014
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