My
husband and I were talking about the Ozarks today. A friend that lives near
there in my home state of Missouri posted a picture of the Mississippi River.
It kept me thinking about my favorite times at home and how I didn’t appreciate
them until I moved away from home. I often miss the charm of the Ozarks, the
people, the rivers, and seemingly simple pleasures of many church gatherings.
River parties in the summer were nearly every week and such happy moments in my
memory. I miss that wild and wonderful spot in this world I used to call home.
Now my heart is planted here, but it does linger in memories at times too.
River Runs Homeward
Wonder
working power of the pull
In
the center of your being
Tugging
on a tender thread
Attaching
you to home
Of
lazy water swim parties that are
Murky
mud bottom smooth rocks
Cold
shocks welcomed
In
blister hot summer steaminess
Jumping
from high rocks
Into
blue green heaven
Frog
kicking up for air
Breaking
the surface
To
focus on other faces
Already
bobbing beside you
The
smell of the wood fire on shore
Built
by the ones
Most
concerned we eat soon
Calling
from the campsite
To
us water rats
Who
while away the time
Splashing
each other silly
Snorting
in river water by the bucketful
Staying
down where the air is sweet
Exploring
crevices and tiny caves
Jumping
at everything that might be a snake
Until
one is spotted
It
is a cotton mouth
They
are fast swimmers
One
bite could be deadly
It
doesn’t see us
No
one moves
Bang!
Off goes the gun
Killing
it dead
And
we return to our revelry
Someone
whistles telling us “time to eat”
We
bow our heads and our pastor says blessing
We
lunge for sticks
Poking
on hot dogs
Finding
your spot to roast it
Seeing
it blacken blistered perfection
Tearing
into it
Nothing
ever tasted so good
Sitting
round the fire
As
twilight draws us close
To
sing one after another
Songs
everyone knows
Not
a word said
But
notes floating
Like
the sparks
Popped
from logs
Consumed
in laughter
Until
the stars look down
Telling
us it is time
To
wish and dream
Homeward
once more
We
pile eight to a truck bed
And
convoy up the steep path
Not
a word said
Leaning
on each other
For
warmth in the chill night’s edge
Gathering
speed on the highway
We
are dropped one by one
To
where we call home
Never
realizing
That
is where we just came from
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