15 March 2026

By Philip Kuepper

Not that the rowers hadn’t thought
about the course to be rowed;
not that they took it for granted. Rivers
are never the same. Never.
Each row proves original
in its challenge to whom meets it,
each meeting one
with no certain outcome.
These were rowers who had known
rivers more than willing
to upend their shells, given the chance;
beasts of rivers. But, then, they had
also known rivers benign.
It is rivers with personality
that are a mix
of beast tempered by benignity
rowers most like to row,
rivers that combine
the ease of welcome
while electric with energy.
They are the rivers to dip oars into.
They are the rivers that will respond,
they the rivers rowing
is not wasted on.
The rowers smiled.
For the river before them was such a river.
And they desired
get the hands of their oars on the body of it.

(22 February 2026)