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THE RIVER
It beholds me with it's mighty stance.
Running wide and eerily deep.
With nature's tempo it does keep.
In frozen stillness it does not flow.
It's name means "Pure White"
Because of it's limestone banks.
For transportation, many give thanks.
The seems to push natures change.
Flows into the Ohio, then the Mississip.
Trees they sometimes drift there
It looks back with a bleary stare.
Deep fathoms do whirlpools produce.
Wabash they call it, where there was trade.
The ominous Steamboats did see
What many were told of and did agree.
It commands respect in every way.
Michaela Warren 2011
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