The songs of the river
Bounce from raft to raft
Like mockingjays humming soft melodies in the forest
In times of unadulterated strength
Or lazy relaxation
We sing, and chant, and scream

From shore to shore, our voices carried
For the wildlife, the trees, anyone who wished to hear
Rough voices carrying through sweet nature

The water is a dull blue-brown
Mirroring the overcast clouds

I hope the clouds will clear
Because tonight were going to tip the stars into the backs of our throats
And sing them out in the very next breath

I trace my fingers among the trees for the very last time at daybreak.

The future is inscribed on the trunks of the white birch…
And I can read the language