More Rocks

I love rocks — everybody I know knows that
Rocks in my garden, rocks in the Park
rocks in the road, rocks to sit on
rocks the cradle, rock to throw
rocks back and forth and rocks to know
Oh yes, let's not forget rocks in the head

My brothers, Tommy and Charlie, know
the rocks, especially those that are a threat
to the canoe. As my tan-backed brothers
paddle our long, green canoe up the channel
of the Charles River toward Caryville (bet you
never heard of that town!) there are many,
many rocks under water, but the paddlers
skillfully turn this way and that, avoiding the
threats to the tender and unknowing canoe

And if you are not in the canoe, but happen
to be standing on shore, just look across the
River's channel to the woods and just at the edge
you will see a large rock that I have known since
I was one of those kids who wore an undershirt,
sewn in the crotch — a makeshift bathingsuit to
wear when five or six of us piled into the canoe and
weighed it down to where only its rims showed
above water.

Back to rocks: If you who are standing there on
shore would look down the channel toward
one of the river's dams, right in the middle of
the channel is another large old rock, the
favorite of the Great Blue Heron.