Piling into the over warm car because it was going to the river.
Not a babbling brook or a lazy meandering stream
But a rushing frothing, racing waterway.
Glimpsed over the edge of the bridge, not suited for swimming,
More riddled with eddies, boulders and rocks.
hazards to unsuspecting flotsam that littered the streaming wavelets
that lap the distant shore.
Why the fascination for the Kicking Horse?
The waters were seldom so green blue.
About the Creator
Author Anita Dotts
The author of Retribution. When she’s not writing, Anita enjoys crafting stories for her grandchildren and exploring her love of poetry. She spends her free time kayaking, swimming, and golfing in Harrison Hot Springs, BC.
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