CUL-DE-SAC

In Pennsylvania I follow the river

Along Highway 15. The Susquehanna.

It collects water from swamps and hillsides to create a

Barrier and a place where boys can float on innertubes, 

Cast fishing lines and dive off tall trees on the riverbank. 

I follow that river through Pennsyltucky. That’s what my dad used to call the 

Home of Pennsylvania hillbillies when he was a kid in New York State

Where my grandpa, who I never met, used to stride over roots and

Streams when he and my dad were bound for the Chemung River to go fishing. 

We leave the Susquehanna in Williamsport, up there on a bluff,

As Hwy 15 takes us on to the Finger Lakes and my cousin Julie in Rochester.

If my grandpa lived longer I could have followed him to the Chemung.

I’d struggle to put a worm on a hook and put it into the river,

That collection of water from the hills, and dreams from the travelers on its banks.

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