Song O’ The Willamette

Seek ye sounds and hear the collective bugle calls!
O’ osprey n’ lumbering locomotive bawls
Hear its honking trombone plunger muted feature
Garbled warble like the voice of Charlie Brown’s teacher
Come down to the river! Bathe in its charming drawl!

The shoreline beckons, a welcoming stretch
To: down and outs, junkies, unhoused, and sketch
Stern ships and steam paddles once thundered aweigh
T’was trolleys n’ hoglines before the salmon swam away

I imagine them buoyed upon anticipation and swells
Pushing past, picturesque placid particulated shells
Gliding delicately o’er past century fast moving tides
Their fishing nets once bulging from the men’s pride

Sand sprawls underneath as I balance stones atop cairns
Glinting sunshine daps the surface, practicing my zen
I tiptoe by tangled plastic bags, needles, and appliance insides
Amid the whir from E-bikes, bicycles and sweaty joggers’ thighs

My heart beats alive in this cool water and bore produced song!
I love you, sweet Willamette! Oh joy to you in my bikini and thong!
Basking in your mien, laying rocks on one another
Despite the Melancholy Accident going on o’er yonder

My respite on the banks of the Willamette River
Finding the fulcrum can be challenging
My tallest stack
My bridge between rocks

Please see this week’s earthweal weekly challenge

Published by subversopus

I am a loveable and squeezable poet and writer. I live in beautiful Oregon with my cat and boyfriend. I love long distance hiking and have completed the entire lengths of the Appalachian Trail (2002, 2014) The Pacific Crest Trail (2012) and the Continental Divide Trail in (2013). Please check out my blog, and my poetry only blog, Cheers and have a kick ass day!!!

8 thoughts on “Song O’ The Willamette

  1. I LOVE the photos of the cairns. So wonderful. Your river sounds very busy, full of noise and activity. You took me there. Wow, you completed the Appalachian Trail. That is awesome.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Sacred and profane merge in these waters, pure and doomed. That the river sings at all is the miracle here, despite (and weirdly) because our human infestations have hammered its courses so. (Stacking stones is a response between those, I think.) A powerful angry beloved energy here. I so remember the Willamette visiting my brother in Portland a few years before he died. Glittery, huge, cold, a Pacific augment I so little understood and distantly grieve. Heavens, who are we without the salmon?

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I am happy you have fond memories of the Willamette. I do hear (the violent splash) and see the occasional osprey grab a salmon from the river on occasion but not like before. Sigh. Sad to hear about your brother. And sad that these sacred rivers are running dry and empty.

      Liked by 3 people

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