A French frog's thoughts on the Skagit river. American frogs welcome to read if they can handle my croaking poorly in their language...
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Skagifurious
There she comes,
Brown fury,
Bubbling and gurgling, gurgling,
Silt, and mud,
Logs, logs, and logs,
Turning everything upside down,
Gigantic food processor,
Latte colored mixture.
There she swells,
Shake factory,
Running wild, wild, wild,
Loud, loud, loud,
Thunderous neighbor,
Gigantic cradle
Thrown into the storm,
Balloting you up and down,
Back and forth,
Up and down,
Back and forth,
Bundle of laundry
You wonder when she’s gonna stop,
Struck in awe at the sight of such fury,
And then you surrender,
And you just watch, listen, and wait.
And you accept.
Then as a child after a genuine, deep sorrow,
Then the loud cries turn into sobs,
And when finally all grief has been shed,
She gradually calms down,
Calms down,
Calms down...
Thank you, magic Skagit, for having spared my floating cradle.
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1 comment:
Haha. C'est tout a faitca, puis c'est beau en plus.
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