we walked for hours

we walked for hours, and still could not view  the river in it's entirety sometimes we saw the thin ribbon of slow moving water in winter, snake towards the north: its sleek cold blue black                                                                                                                                                                                                                      continuing to move- mostly from west to east; cutting rock, lifting small stones, carrying green veils of sea weed, and soft small sticks of balsalm the river, never self conscious, would not complain of the cold, the early darkness, or the extra weight of an occasional canoe, gliding down her blue black back-- or a dozen sea gulls splashing at the border, between damp firm grey sand, studded with pine cones, and---her daring waters slowly dancing in a thin line all that remains floating upon her blue black spine words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '15