Poetry Archives

Down on the Lumbee river
 Where the eddies ripple cool
Your boat, I know, glides stealthily
 About some shady pool.
The summer’s heats have lulled asleep
 The fish-hawk’s chattering noise,
And all the swamp lies hushed about
 You sunburnt boys.

You see the minnow’s waves that rock
 The cradled lily leaves.
From a far field some farmer’s song,
 Singing among his sheaves,
Comes mellow to you where you sit,
 Each man with boatman’s poise,
There, in the shimmering water lights,
 You sunburnt boys.

I know your haunts:  each gnarly bole
 That guards the waterside,
Each tuft of flags and rushes where
 The river reptiles hide,
Each dimpling nook wherein the bass
 His eager life employs
Until he dies—the captive of
 You sunburnt boys.

You will not—will you?—soon forget
 When I was one of you,
Nor love me less that time has borne
 My craft to currents new;
Nor shall I ever cease to share
 Your hardships and your joys,
Robust, rough-spoken, gentle-hearted
 Sunburnt boys!