DEADSPACE POETRY



Here, special moments captured in verse
spring to life for better or worse
This section appears with allusions so bold
only if enough advertising fails to get sold



QUIET TOO LONG

By William E Becker

I can’t hear the river roaring
around here anymore
I can’t smell the foaming freedom
from a thousand waterfalls
or hear the murmuring echoes
from the marbled canyon walls
But I can hear Grandpa
telling stories of the past
of the Blue Hole, the Willow Hole
and the old dam that didn’t last
Of catching yellowcats on cane poles
where the “Trap” ran deep and fast
Of the floods of ‘35, ‘36’ and ‘27
that would end this fishing heaven

I can’t hear the river roaring
around here anymore
I can’t smell the foaming freedom
from a thousand waterfalls
or hear the murmuring echos
from the marbled canyon walls
But in my troubled dreams
I can feel the river’s longing
and hear her sad and ceaseless moaning
“Where is my summer sweetness?
Where is my summer song?
It’s been gone too long”
Copyright 1996 William E. Becker
Bill Becker lives in Marble Falls, Texas on the edge of the Colorado River. There are no "marble falls" anymore.
Like many of the most beautiful spots on our rivers, it was swallowed by a flood control dam.




Back to Arts Page