Long Canoeing Poems

I finished work at noon on Friday and headed home to pack
Put my gear in the trunk and put my canoe on the roof rack
Headed out down the freeway and got off at exit seven
The...

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Love Letter 
This is my love letter 
To a beautiful woman 
I hardly know
I do know from observing
Her interaction with others 
She is smart and compassionate
She has chosen a profession
Helping folks on the edge of...

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Would the real “Matthew Scott Harris” please stand up!

Yo...over here in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
all the other ones (that follow below)...
them guys imposters I write – every ƒµ©**** one.

Curiosity and discretion 
got the better part of me...

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A Perfect Day to Learn 

We took our late lunch in a wooden cabin at the foot of the mountain where exotic foods in sumptuous meal were served. I enjoyed immensely the fried fish and...

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Chapter 13: Leaving the River

Our leaving the river I think surprised us both,
But the seeds were sown early in our preparations,
And shared philosophy of following our bliss,
Simply stated, the trip stopped being fun,
Prairie du Chien,...

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Every form of life has it's walls, nothing, no one stands alone
 some are trees, brush, branch, twig and wood and bark
 some are mortar and stone, mere workers flesh and bone
 others lay in...

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brothers we be, brother we be free


brothers we be
brother we be free
me and lil bro would have these sword fights
yelling fight to our deaths
yelling to the victor gets Kristina the neighbor's daughter
we were young
about ten
drawing...

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'Camp Chippewa, ' its tennis and rifle range, X-Class sailing, 
And classic 'Old Town' canvas covered wooden canoes, 
Not the low-class aluminum canoes of a 'Camp Thunderbird.'
Cass Lake - garden of the Mississippi's hidden currents,...

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Overflow of the waters of Lake Itaska
You carry your wealth to the waiting world, 
Mighty Mississippi, half savior, half sewer, 
Plant and animal wastes, dissolved minerals, 
Venting prairie deluge, dividing a Nation, 
Exposed aquifer of...

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THE ISLANDS OF SAN JUAN - TIMESHARE

[FOLKTALE]

IN A PORTION, A SPELL IS CASTE.
THE PEOPLE ARE CALLED NUGLUMMI.
IN A TRANCE STATE, THEY EAT HONEY AND BEES ARE FORM FROM THEIR EYES.
INSIGHTFULLY THEY BEGIN TO TRANSFORM THE...

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Perhaps halfway to Bemidji we met a cleaning crew
Removing fallen trees but it helped us little
As they had only just started when we saw them.
The riverbed was much lower than fields it cut
So our vision...

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Our riverbank launch at dawn
where dense forest chills the breeze,
where cottonwood leaves flutter like wings,
and weeping willow penumbras tease.

Glistening, rippling turquoise water churns.
Crystal swirling pools symphonic and aglow,
elliptic aluminum crafts coast over craggy stones, 
riverbed...

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On the Penang Island, they collect divine charms 
                          ...

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There she sat all alone in her recliner
Pondering all the days of her youth
Canoeing, climbing trees
And yes! Catching crickets!
She would catch them by the dozens and then sing to them
Then she would set them free
It...

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Extra weight no longer a problem for shallow water, 
We bulked up for the next leg of our journey, 
Water containers, even some canned goods
An acceptable luxury in our seventeen foot canoe, 
A canvas topping...

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Canoeing Memory

Blood floods my brain with days of youth,
As I relax on the sofa and let my mind wander,
To happier times when paddling the lake;
In our cedar canoe, my friend and I,
Skinny-dipping under the warm...

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gently under concordian hymn's, drifting through handwritten currents.
where willows weave their lengthy signatures drawn across the calm collection of a bristled 
pool.  a library of leaves lies around the trees knotted trunks, dry and...

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Every journey worth its salt has rocky places
Bank to bank filled with frothing white water, 
The economics of avoidance, steering a lean course, 
Avoiding higher peaks that thrill - vouchsafed to others.
Rest days taken during...

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She was too young to go


Cakes and I were racing our bikes down the hill,
like two squirrels racing for food,
through a wheat field and farm,
side by side, 
we went.
On the other side was a lake,
where...

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Chapter 11: The Problem with Lakes

Canoes and larger lakes don’t mix well I’m afraid,
The rough equivalent of a margarita and a toothpick.
On the Mississippi a lake means a dam somewhere,
The scenic route buried now under...

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Deliberately provisioned light on our departure,
Bemidji, Minnesota, is our first port of call.
Though eighty miles by river's reckoning, 
This first stretch is an annual competition
That canoeing experts make in one day, 
But my sister, concerned...

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Like a young girl, early river is inviting, 
Charms a plenty, but surprising secrets, 
We imagined potential rapids around every corner, 
A new born fawn and doe caught drinking, 
Whole families of hatchling ducks, 
So...

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Oh let me sing of the river's people
No, not holiday boaters, but those rare few
Whose homes and hearts embrace the river, 
Trafficking in all that she so blithely carries.
Backyards a port of entry for wayward...

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Chapter 10: Modern Dams & Locks

A highpoint of our whole trip, a lock and dam,
Originally St. Anthony Falls in Minneapolis - St. Paul.
Can you imagine how Spanish explorers felt
Entering California’s Golden Gate for the first...

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Chapter 9: Portaging Older Dams

Eleven Minnesota dams we had to portage
All without clear use for folks today
But as the Mississippi is a ‘navigable’ river.
Owners are required by law to transport boats
Around these artificial barriers to...

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