BASEMENT

The river is eternal.
Submerged, my ears hear
the tumbling of a mountain
of washed gravel rolling
downstream; the thump
of the big rock finally
turning to a new bottom.

I watch the news--
a river of selected data--
and am hypnotized
by the ever-changing
sameness.

I long for sensation:
a yellow rock in an old riverbed
waiting to be etched
like the Grand Canyon
into my limbic brain.

                       ---
         Sanctuary '93.12.01