You say “Flooded Basements”, I say “Accept The Bounty”.

My Big Sioux

a poem by Chris T.


You wind yourself through my town

Giving your flow and taking your space

A frozen platform you provide for my footfall

A living liquid tranquility my countenance has seen


Malevolence free you decide to cover the bike path

No great stroke of judgement

Just an inability to control what comes from the north

As if a fly can hold back an elephants charge


My lips said no curse when basements flooded

I raised no fist to your unwanted bounty

My praise was of our quiet times

The times in which your rhythmic tones coaxed a shoreline catch


As the season was harsh I did not forget

The feel of my bare feet standing on your shore

Cottonwoods arching over to provide my shade

Bullheads gently rising to gulp the bounty you afford


To the old railroad bridge I run to meet you

My notebook jots our time together

My grey hair has shared wind with you

And our time spent is never too long and never too short


O Big Sioux carry with you my dream

Sojourn with me in earnest

Be my mosquito’s sting and my urban refuge

Let’s forge together our path with a child-like wonder


My Big Sioux carries the soul of me



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