Monday, January 28, 2008
RED CLOUD ©
When the Platte River was mid‑summer dry
from bank to bank
we would dig dog‑like into the river of sand
with the burnt tincans
from an old campfire
showering our backs as we threw the sand high
over our aching shoulders
coating each other with fine grains
our bodies sparkling hot
in the convivial sun.
Until we squared out waterboats, plumbing
the hidden river
water rising in the bows, and still we scooped
through the soupy sand as the muddy water
seemed to flood the crafts.
Then we lay back, cargo submerged, gingerly
as if not to overturn
our loads into the sand. For hours our eyes scaled
cumulus mountains, until a red sky
would call us in
before the sudden rain could sink our boats,
filling us with sand.
Navigating the Platte, Ohio University , Creative Thesis, 1986.
Past President's Award, Anthology, 1987
National Federation of State Poetry Societies
The Pearl, The University of New Mexico
Alliance for Academic Excellence, 1987
Closing the Gate, Nightshade Press, 1993
Liver of the White Buffalo, dedicated to son, John Kevin Childers, 2002
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