Beside the Buffalo

"Buffalo River" photo credit: Gerry Toler

I rediscovered the poetry of Rosalie Toler tonight. Here is one for you:

Beside The Buffalo

Alone on a rock with a

   book

I do the friendly thing

I read poetry to the

   river,

and the water molds it

   to a new rhythm.

Williams — Whitman —

   Dickinson,

I hurl their polished   

   syllables

away on the current.

Do people downstream

   hear them coming?

I wonder.

Maybe some fisherman,

casting his own lines,

   will feel the rush,

sense the lure of purling

   words leaping,

matching riff with riffle.

Or maybe some rugged

   kayaker,

etching his watery v’s,

will shoot rapids

   through them,

unaware that part of

   the thrill

is sheer poetry.