The unheard weeping
(come of the evening on Wolf River)
the evening crept upon us
as we splashed about the river.
with haste discarded,
the evening in accompany with slumber,
slipped upon us in our lapsing frivolity.
the forest fell into a different rhythm
about us as we collected dead wood
for the fire to warm the night.
the untimed falling of the hatchet
resounded the length of the Wolf.
the wood-laden canoes peacefully parted
the easing water, worn from its flood rush;
and the finding of a trout
ushered only exhausted excitement
from those building the fire.
and in our wearied talk
around the bristling fire,
the weeping was left unheard