Ohio night

The night’s sky leaked darkness upon the Ohio evolving it into a pit of nothingness the color of the devil’s soul. The current’s tide rushing furiously along the deep, wide Ohio. Barely noticeable to the naked eye the currents travel along the banks as if their eyes were as good as those of a cat’s. The wave’s sounding drowned out by the cars speeding by on the bridge, exiting on the ramp, too possessed by the driver’s orders to stop and take a glance at the beauty. The white orb in the sky noted as the moon’s fog surrounding  its perfect form. The steam hovering around like a concerned mother of her poor baby moon. Mother Fog is my personal name for the fog witch of clings to the sides of the moon.  She’s light and visible. At eight o’ clock the darkness of this winter evening shall be distorted. Ten minutes from now the stadium lights flash on echoing past the dome and upon the vast river breaking the darkness of the Ohio and revealing the currents visibility.  The secret to the rivers form. The minutes count down, then the seconds, 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1 and the BIG BOOM has arrived. A new beauty has overthrown the old one to improve upon it. The lights stream upon the Ohio as if a line of hanging lanterns in China on the Day of the Dead. The lights reveal the currents which are playfully rehearsing their dance of the winter wind.The dance with sweet rushes of movement like the strokes of an artistes brush. How I long to be one with the sweet river.