Waterhugs

by Gray Smith

for JPeach & BBeautiful
1994-2008

I was almost ready to learn
What imagination is—it is only
The lie we must learn to live by, if ever
We mean to live at all. Times change.
Things change…        

“American Portrait Old Style”, Robert Penn Warren
                                                            

She was Manager for Corporate Gifts,
Contributions to charity.
A river saver’s what he was,
Though truth to tell, he

Would rather be a trout he
Would, and swim all day.
But raising money was his job
With big costs to pay.

To block pollution at its source,
And keep the rivers clean,
The biggest checks would often come
From companies that were keen

To cover up their work with Good
Deeds. And so, he thought,
With ever larger checks from her,
He should reciprocate and ought

To show appreciation for such support.
He sent an invitation
To take her on a one day trip
To have a river celebration.

He wrote, “I’ll teach you how to be
A fish.”  Above his name
He signed, “Waterhugs”.
Is this some kind of game

She wondered ? “But he seems so nice. It might
Be fun,” she softly said.
She’d never traveled in a Classic
Land Rover, she’d read

Brochures, seen photos of safari trips.
Transformed, he was.  Magnetic.
What energy!  His language.
The words.  “Poetic

Passion” for this river she would meet,
Surrounding mountain forest,
Roadless empty spaces on the map,
Osprey, hawk, eagles’ nest,

Old oak and hickory trees that shade
Moss covered ground, air sweet
From ferns nearby, enchanted forest
Floor to touch with bare feet.

“And when you teach me how to be
A fish?”, reminding him. “Yes,
“You’ll use the river’s energy, upstream
Currents, eddies will caress

Your skin, like soft flowing silk,
The water will change
Completely how your body feels.”
She felt a whole new range

Of things. “Please... tell me more.
Everything. Tell me
How you fell in love with rivers.”
As he began, she

Felt a need to touch him.
“You really want to know…?”
“Yes.” Her hand was on the seat.
He turned to see the glow

In her face. And so they drove,
He talked, they laughed. They drove
And drove, and finally came to forest
Lands, and through a grove

Of spruce that filled the air they breathed.
“Ten thousand acres, all wild”
He smiled, “and when you cross the river,
You’re there.” “Well, Mr.Wild,

We just might get lost!”  She squeezed his arm.
“Or, the river might rise
And we’d get stuck and stranded!”
She said, with laughing eyes.

The river then appeared. Beside
The narrow road it ran.
On little waves the sunlight bounced.
She had to hold his hand.

“On my,” she whispered. “It’s gorgeous!
I had no idea it would be so….”
He parked the Rover. She watched
Him unstrap the canoe, go

Under it, raise the boat
Overhead…”beautiful?”
And take it down the steep bank.
So strong and youthful

She thought…so natural... Dry bag,
Life jackets, paddles, cooler--
She brought the bag-- all came down
The bank. He had to teach her,

He said, some strokes to ferry over.
“Ready to learn, teacher!”
He held her hands upon the paddle.
She then was close to sure

About her feelings for this man.
The sun was hot. They
Took off clothes worn over suits.
Tongue tied, he couldn’t say

Much as he watched her from
The stern. Just encouragement
For strokes. They crossed the river
To the bank. Then went

Into a calm eddy behind a flat
Rock, next to a rapid.
“Oh, that was fun!!” she said.
“Congratulations, you did

Really well!” He helped her on the rock,
Then cupped cool water
In his hands to show how clean
It was. “I guess I’m hotter

Than the sun.” She quickly glanced
To see a swelling in his suit.
Holding hands they jumped into the water.
“You’re such forbidden fruit !”

He said, “Ms. Manager of Contributions!”
“Oh...?” she laughed. They waded
To a rock, the river pouring over.
With some resistance he persuaded

Her to crouch below the falling water.
A shoulder/back “massage”.
Then turning, head raised, “a facial”,
Next, a great barrage

Of questions she began to ask.
It was like an Interview,
With ever more intimate a drift,
“A swim is what you

Need!” he said. He grabbed her hand.
They slowly floated to the eddy
Swimming hole of clear, quiet water.
“I think I’m almost ready

For those Waterhugs, with silk against my skin?”
She gave her suit to him.
He put the suits upon a rock.
“Unless you’d rather have a swim,”

She smiled. He held her in the water,
Shoulder deep. Still,
He held her. Close…still. Closer
Still. Until…until...

The sound of falling water faded to
One heart beat.
“Listen. Just breathe…and listen,”
He whispered, her feet

On his. They heard a hawk scream.
Then only sounds of breathing.
The river’s pulse had joined with theirs,
Tighter still, holding.