Searching for the cane break
The cold spring, the sand camp
Lost in Colorado river hemp
Hummingbirds weave between yellow blossoms
Bluegills tuck into shady bank 
Among dead stumps, submerged branches
Working our way up every holler
Cold water and the taste of limestone
From the quiet of the cutbank 
To the clearing above the cliff
Wind blows stiff from the south
Carrying the smoke from my mouth downstream