When I was five, my family went on a trip across country. We camped out at a ton of places, one of which was on the Snake River in Wyoming. I have a vivid memory of standing on the edge of the water in front of our campsite and skipping stones with my brother, Nick, who is 7 years older than me, and my sister, Liz, who is 6 years older. I have been privileged and proud to watch my siblings grow up and make their choices as I make mine. This poem tries to use that memory to get at (among other things) how glad I am that no matter what paths our lives take, we are still family. Liz and Nick, this poem is ours. I love you both.
Snake River
(For Nick and Liz)
I can only assume that
Nick must have started it,
Then Liz, then me.
We stood at the edge
Of a swift and shallow stream,
Selecting stones judiciously
Then casting them out across
The water to count their steps
Before gravity took them under.
Each choice was irrevocable—
Once released, bound to fall below
The constant, rushing current
And join the droves of decisions
Already thrown by man or God,
Dissolving into the sand beneath our feet.
For all the fighting, the long ride bickering
About every nothing that masquerades
As anger and frustration,
We stood there on the bank
Of the Snake River, side by side by side,
And picked our destinies together.
2 comments:
Oh Snake River! Well put John. You are such a blessing in my life and a truly talented writer.
So beautiful, John. I'm so amazed that you have such vivid memories of that trip. You were so young, but I could see the awe in your eyes every moment of that trip and somehow knew you wouldn't forget it.
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