Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Beloit & Janesville, WI underwater, Rock River still rising...

This River I Run:

There's a place I come from,
That little midwestern town by the river,
I can never escape it's call,
No matter how far I go,
Trees green,
Water near the same,
Limestone and dams,
The festivals of summer,
A glimpse of peace crosses my face as afternoon sunshine,
As the boat cruises down the Rock,
I feel at home,
Where I know in my bones,
This place has never left my blood,
In spite of pains,
In spite of travels,
In spite of gains,
This river I run is at the root of me,
These banks hallowed ground,
My childhood screams it's name,
My family's fate has long been surrounded by it,
The seeming languid waters deceptive in their power,
My grandmother and grandfather,
Mother and father,
Brothers, sisters,
Cousins, aunts, uncles,
Near all have watched this water run by,
And timeless times I remember,
As lives flow slowly by,
Their seeming languid pace deceptive in their power,
And I thank God for moments most would call me fool for,
To cherish this small, unknown, struggling town,
This place so often ridiculed,
But as they often say here,
Beloit Wisconsin calls you,
One can leave,
But in some fashion,
Everyone winds up coming back,
Even if just in memory of times loved or hated.
Happy as I am,
I miss the river I run.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/16/2001

Wish I could go up & help sandbag or something - it's really bad. Beloit is my home town for those who don't know, and Janesville is right next to it.

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