River Journey

Eye hooks   nag us as
           dimly roars the craft
    Fingers. Ears. Fidget. Nod off.

           whiling,
           we knit wool webs
           grasp hoping

                silver slivers
                splinters
                digging, teeth first
                biting trenches
                brimming in sluggish
                   slurry froth green grey
                   moats slopped fullof

                endless

                      moreget.


     How? Now renounce it?