Set upon blue pontoons
that twitched like dousing rods
we went spinning down
over deep pools where the river slows
marshy fescue and clotted eelgrass along the banks
water clear over silted boulders
and waterlogged pines
went spinning past guys
stomach-flopped on inner tubes
past fishermen knee-deep casting into pools
rods pulling red lures against the green
past ducks scurrying toward us begging
diving for thrown wafers
we slid over brown gravel
where water ran swifter in narrow runnels
into the little thrill of white water
gasps in the rapids
nudging rocks and swirling around them
not quite making the angle we aimed for
hitting all the obstacles
rocks low bridges brushy
margins with their hidden sticks
bumping over the scrape
and crunch of the shallows
we wanted the center
but the rudderless tube would not hold it
and toward the end
when the wind came up
our forward strokes did nothing
we spun lazily or furiously
until the river caught us in its line–-
even in the last long rapid
pulling hard for the takeout
what carried us
was relentless
clear water moving
all the way down
Alicia Hokanson’s first collection of poems, Mapping the Distance, was selected by Carolyn Kizer for a King County Arts Commission publication prize. Two chapbooks from Brooding Heron Pressare Insistent in the Skin and Phosphorous. She was named the River of Words Poetry Teacher of the Year in 2003. Now retired after a long career teaching English, she devotes her time to writing, tutoring, and political activism in Seattle and on Waldron Island, Washington.
