Canadian River

Within a gorge of grey, sharp rock
A river rushes, tumbles, swirls;
No sky reflected in its depths,
No life, no bird its wings unfurls.

No trees or bushes on its banks,
But bare, flat rocks above, below;
Yet in the crevices in June
The tender, gallant bluebells grow.

Edith Granger Hawkes 1891

(This poem received honorable mention in February 1941 in League of Western Writers Poetry Contest, sponsored by Seattle Branch No. One.)