Happening

The river we crossed
had shade from trees
just as we were promised.

The river looked like any other river
on a broad plain.
It had no serpents or quicksand.

Our rest was for a midday meal
and to wait for others
we were sure walked behind us.

How we crossed I cannot say.
There was no ferry or boat.
There was no bridge or pontoon.

I remember when it arrived
the night was darker than usual
and the stars held unfamiliar stories.

During the night we heard hooves
amble by in great numbers
like buffalo or cows.

By morning there was no sign
of a single print in the ground
no broken blade of grass.

When dawn broke the horizon
we heard a choir sustain
a solitary note from far away.

copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney