This year the river rages
past early swimming holidays.
It’s still not summer water,
pulls the kayakers under,
snowmelt and current, dam
releases, a full-grown bear
almost swept away, emerging
battered and coughing on the near
shore to disappear, chastened
maybe, lucky. Even sons
and daughters born here, who
know each boulder by name
and have swum its length
a thousand times, are wary.
Editor’s note: Molly Fisk is a Nevada County Poet Emerita, prolific writer and avid swimmer. These days, she stays ashore waiting for the waters to be safe. Be like Molly.