Walking the Pipeline

Copyright 2010
Judith J. Bentley

On a clear January morning,
outfitted for the stinging cold
over nearly a frozen river
we walk the pipeline.

What is it that urges us on,
one by one, to the place
on the pipeline
where there is nothing to hold onto?

Attentive to each single step
lest we lose our footing
and fall into the river rushing over us,
gushing over the polished stones--

we push on past the city's homeless
under the bridge, the train's thundering motion,
to a certain harsh energy
only the river knows.

Is it that energy or some encounter?
We can only say we've been outside
walking the pipeline--
we've been here with the river for a time.