A glimpse of the Erie Canal at Little Falls through a poet’s eyes.
Poem by Marea Needle. Photo by Sue Smith Romero.
Jostled by currents fallen branches drift as drowned torsos no one can identify. Castles of ribbon rock sediment- unfaltering. Spring struggles to cover the naked. Slowly, from Canal’s bend laden tug “Barbara Ann” heads toward Eternity. At the prow two ancient mariners stand. “Barbara Ann” moves steadily beyond sight. In her wake Canada geese seesaw. Shattered sunlight prisms off the water. Hours flee unable to watch Night fall.