Sawmill River

I can’t forget any part of it

water tumbled its gush
down the white-lined course
trying to stay in boundaries
of wood and rock

mammoth juts of history
teased my eyes along its busy track
of black so even birds couldn’t land
then a strong curve of power
rushed under the bent branch

spray played along the whole course of it
elbows and all
that was magnificence alone
but only the half of it in that
a snow’s gentle decent began