writings/ The Rivers (a poem)

by Jamey Sharp, circa 1996-1997

I feel exhilerated,
through day and night.
The Monongahela and the Allegheny fly away behind me,
and I'm swiftly floating above the Ohio.
I swoop down, sip the water.
It is refreshing.
Soon I come to the falls of the Ohio.
I dive right over the edge.
The spray feels nice and cold.
A fish jumps up as I go down. I continue my journey
as day       
I reach the mouth of the Ohio. I see the Mississippi, stretching
many, many, many miles.
I turn south.
Miles disappear behind me like stars in the early morning sky.