Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Up The Distant River

Up the distant river in the cold damp gray of a November dawn
The salmon swim against the strong currents to spawn
To the gravelly river fords in the fields by the town
As yesterday's flood that flowed bank high goes down
They run the gauntlet of poacher's gaff and spear
But their natural desire for their species survival outweighs mortal fear
Weakened from their long journey danger to them lurks near
At the end of their strength sapping swim in the Fall of the year
The natural instincts to pass on their genes in them remains strong
As against the strong currents they battle along
In the gravel beds of the fords their eggs they do lay
And their young too will swim to saltwater one day
From overnight frost the river-side fields are gray
As the salmon to their breeding fords battle their way.

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