Riverboat

I am ten and
Riding the wide
Mississippi River
On a steamboat
South of St. Louis
With my father and
Siblings Susan & Penny
Teens and Sarah eight.
Mom, David four
And unborn Mary are
Safe at our Illinois home.
This is our chance to
Ride on a paddle wheeler
On the big river to see
The river and shores
From the river itself,
The riverboat is full
Of flashy “fun” machines
To entice the average
Person to play games
Of hand/eye coordination
And cheap fast food to eat,
My sibs and I have no
Money for such things
And are encouraged to
Stand by the rail and see
The shoreline slide by
While noting the different
Types of water on the river
Showing sand bars, deep
Water and tree snags as
Mark Twain had seen them.
My elder sisters disappear
First into the crowd then Sarah
Tries but Dad holds her hand
Onto the rail, I am fascinated
By the patterns on the surface
Of the river that hint at
What lays below, the idea of
A tree snag puncturing our
Boat’s thin hull and sending
All those unaware folks into
The river keeps my eyes on
What the river holds for us.
An adventure too fun to
Turn to fake games and
Even the Oder of fast food.
I stand for hours down then
Up the river searching for
Snags, bull reefs over shallow
Water and creepy floaters.
Sarah hangs crouching by
One hand held to the rail
By our scientific, nerdy father,
Her other hand pointing to
The laughter, food and games
Her two sisters have entered.
She gets my Dad to take her
To the restroom, she is eight
And adorably cute, where she
Can ditch him and blend into
The crowd of celebration.
I head up stairs and ladders
For a better river traffic view.
The wind in my face and my
Imagination running wild,
Our boat fights the current.
Over two hours down river
And over three up river
Then we dock and return
To land though I never
Forget the sights and
Sounds of boating
On the mighty
Mississippi.