The River Connects Us

Another night for

another dollar to hold

Playing his guitar

Playing for money,

But also for his own heart

A steady strumming

Calms his weary soul

A hard days work, but also

His one true calling

Playing for people,

In the bright lights of broadway

Or simply right here

Singing for people,

Signing record deals for fun,

Or under the sun

He doesn’t care where,

So long as people listen

And are somehow healed

Healing peoples heart

This, this is his true calling

Lifting others up

He strums his guitar

And sets it down in its case

Ah, well done today

While you are still crossing over,

Not yet renewed

By these fast-moving waters,

Living still in the present,

In the humdrum of the now,

Covered with dust of the past,

The dazzling

Stainless Arch beckons.

In slanted early morning light,

Rainbow dew drops

On shoreline sedge reflect

The bejeweled archway span.

Leave the old, broken,

Wrinkled ground behind!

- Tom Gillaspy, Summer 2024

Skirting the red osier marsh,

bounded by burgeoning

fox sedge and wild rice,

bulrush and manna grass close-by,

A primordial lily pad pool erupts

as ten-foot wings spread

over the water,

slowly gathering speed,

pushing a surge ahead

like a twin-engine float plane.

Rising on sun-warmed air,

then higher and higher,

catching midday thermals,

he soars with antediluvian grace,

transcending the peak

Of the Mountain Whose Foot is Bathed

in the Waters of the Great River.

This elegant white bird with black wingtips

carries his own sashimi

to the Migration Planning Committee.

- Tom Gillaspy, Summer 2024

Description goes hAs I looked up at the big blue sky,
I saw a bird flapping by.
Now I have questions! I want to know.
How do they do that? And why can’t I?
I have arms, so can I fly?
I am going to try.

- Aria (Age 8)

Sun, wind

Cut deep furrows

On deck wood and crewman’s

Hands alike. Only rope is new,

And blue.

- Tom Gillaspy 2024

In the land of ribs,

Blatz beer bars, and Harley hogs,

Kawasaki roars

- Tom Gillaspy 2024