wisdom of solomon
solomon starts below modesto
just kisses palmyra on its’ west
until it begins to rush
to otter creek below hagaman
deep ditch when dry
spring and fall rains
tax its’ banks
flood bottoms for miles
lives been lost in those muddy waters
going back a thousand years
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| Solomon River pd photo |
on high brush choked bluffs
where raised sacred mounds
fields given up by farmers
returning to earlier times
when fox, sauk, and before them
the creek and river living macoupin
hunted farmed in natural harmony
as young men we logged that creek
with old cork trimmed seines
swam its’ deep holes
listened to its’ calm song
wondered in awe at its’ rage
changing paths on a whim
really never taking notice
of any man’s passing
on returning to st. louis
every visit
memories crawl out
from the shadows of buildings
pulls me into the neighborhood
of west pine and sarah
the same spring smells
jar stored memories in vision
at professional hockey game
search the crowd for familiar faces
correct myself, forgetting my age
for looking at younger faces
force myself to look
for bald guys and white hair
finding them in the foyers
drinking beer in circles
with same easy going mentality
that seems part of my past
this city pulls on me
when I try to leave
and when I’m there
part of me is lost and frantic
like returning to a house
you once lived in
familiar and again a stranger
people made it what it was
now they are gone also
the city is what it is
that world is lost forever
but the memories mine to keep
~Dan Jacoby
