SUMARIAN ODORS, LINGERING...
It is fitting, only to the passage of schools
Of fish, flustered, madly seeking release
In eddying pools, along the drying summer Rogue,
Currents ignore the occasional baited line,
Floating lured wickedly on sparkling water
Towards the clutching, grasping sea.
Fluidic in release, obeying no man,
The course of river motion laughs,
Mirroring our poor human lives,
Replete with soaring aspiration
That some ultimate, everlasting memory
Will somehow survive our passing.
It is, of course, a futile, empty hope,
Since the Universe remembers no man
Nor long mourns his passage.
The substance of dreams then
Fades to total dissolution,
Fragmental human hope
That transmutes
The final diaspora
Of fateful destiny
Into the eternal
Sleep that
Follows.
Aeolus Aerospace
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On my first trip west in September, 1966 to go to school in California with my grandmother as a traveling companion (a story I thought I would tell here soon with pictures that I/she took) we came into California from the north, from Oregon.
At lunchtime, as was our custom, I pulled off to a roadside stop along the Rogue to eat our bologna sandwiches and whatever fruit we had picked up along the way. As I looked into the clear water flowing by I saw several large fish, at least 20 inches long, gliding in formation, stationary in the current. As an avid fisherman in Wisconsin, I had never seen such a sight. I can only surmise that they were salmon. Without any fishing gear or license, I just watched them as we ate and were soon on our way again.
Ron