River Deity

Nodding to the world in blue
we gather at the frozen river
and imagine dousing ourselves
in the name of some nameless
deity who doesn’t respect us
or the troubled world he’s made.

We chat about family and friends,
then scatter into the bursting storm.
Two feet of snow predicted.
Wading through it will sample
our commitment to far horizons
where people sport like dolphins.

Our plow driver looks forward
to the challenge. His truck hums
like Penelope working her web.
The river will disappear till spring.
We drive home a few minutes
ahead of the rushing atmosphere.

The other citizens also snug up
with televisions groaning loudly
and tea sizzling in ugly mugs.
The river deity lies in the mud,
sleeping so deeply nothing but
his latest hunger can wake him.