The sparkling St John River

Waist deep in the quick water


Brothers and grandfather

Off the banks of the Allagash

A beautiful silver speckled fish

Glittering like a jewel in the sun

What is this?

Mature eyes sparkle

“That is a wild salmon.”

Time like the river

Moving forward

Decades past

Feeling like a child

Approaching the three wardens at the table

“How is the trout and salmon fishing in the St John”?

They look at me and smile

Their forks pause as they stare into their pancakes

“There are no trout and salmon in the St John”

A well-intentioned biologist

Making the decision to independently OK the stocking of Muskie

In a border lake fed by the St John

These ravenous aggressive predators

Soon wiped out all the trout and salmon in the St John

And all connecting waters


A remote mountain lake

Yet again, two boys

Climbing out of the tent

A fire crackling in the predawn darkness

“You know you got up in the middle of the night.”


No watches, no clocks…no time

I gingerly cradle my hot cup of coffee

“I thought it was morning”

Soft laughter is picked up and carried away

Mixing with…becoming one with…

The cool clarity within the morning breeze



Are everywhere in the wild world around us

They are there in the pre-dawn night sky

There…in that remote fire

And of course there

Within the light in a woman’s eyes

I cannot help but note the inquisitiveness

The playfulness…nary a shadow blemishes the light

There is a word for all these things

Actually a couple come to mind





Beauty…within our world

Ever changing

Forever in flux

(Note the St John)

Those timeless old words

“One cannot step into the same river twice

It is not the same river

And it is not the same person”

Recognizing this…acknowledging the constant change

Acknowledging my own insignificance

My own temporal fleeting humanness

I try to leave little behind

A carefully chosen little

“Do you know?

God’s honest truth!

That you become more beautiful everyday?”

…there is a word for that smile

Actually a couple come to mind





These are the carefully chosen little things

I choose to leave behind