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East on 22 - Just Outside of Newport


I love the cozy way these great 

sweeps of hills nestle themselves 

to rest themselves into the Juniata. 

Hollers and gaps swell and bloom 

into mountains and rivers without end.  

Sleepy giants lulling shoulder to hip, 

head to thigh, wet with river dew of 

the vast Susquehanna.  


One last bend opening up to an 

expanse of cascading rocks and 

bridges endlessly swimming to 

the horizon and to Harrisburg.


The land and rivers are so sensual 

here; holding each other gently forever.  

Unable and unwilling to release their 

geologic grasp; their tectonic clutching 

will rise and fall - undulating with abandon 

and no regret into tomorrow again and again.



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