River Dancers

My friend and fellow river walker, Joseph Hesch, saw my photograph this morning on Facebook and penned this wonderful poem to go with it. Please do visit his blog “A Thing For Words” to read more from one of my favorite writers…

A Thing for Words

(Photo © 2015 Diana Matisz)

It’s almost morning and the music
comes across muted in the mirror ball
near-light reflecting on the dance floor.
All night the couples have swayed
and bumped with one another,
even grinding their slippery bodies
in the moaning dark to the tune
that’s played in this joint since
the big bottoms shook hands
and opened it.

The aroma of old smoke
and older subterranean sweat
drifts heavy to you on the shore
and then come the voices signaling
Last Call, turning on those too bright lights,
pushing and hustling the dancers
on their ways to their daily jobs
filling these arteries with the ichor
from the black heart of the Alleghenies.

They’ll be back tonight, because
the rhythm of these rivers is all
they know, the blood-pumping
life of these sooty coal buckets,
these rusty barges with names like
painted ladies and otherwise
forgotten river…

View original post 80 more words


3 thoughts on “River Dancers

  1. Yes Diana, it’s a barge, it’s a barge! And yes, interesting how different observations collide here… yours, mine and Joe. Just shows how individual interpretation is just soo individual. Love it!

  2. Nice collaboation! I’m loving the mist rising to soften and transform the building. I like to incorporate power-
    lines too rather than to try to avoid them… it’s a nice tension.

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