Au Sable By John Harold Olson

Half-drunk on Canadian Mist hearing

 the guy down the bar

Say the Au Sable River was named for the sables that used to frolic on the banks.

I said “you’re way off”.

Ignoring the me, the guy started telling the woman about how the trappers over-trapped the sable and now that they are extinct, but they named the river after the sable. “Just like America”, the woman said, pouring a shot down her throat.

They had it all figured out.

“Mister, that’s not what Au Sable means. It means “in the sand”, I said.

“Nobody’s talking to you,” he said.

I motioned to Kenny. Go again.

“What was that?,” I asked the guy. 

Northern Michigan night sounds come In

Through an open window.

I thought about the canoe, and my Dad in the stern and his big rowing motion,

Like a River wheel.

The river was narrow then opened out of the woods into wide spots with a pair of cranes 

Flying like a pair of F-15s just above the water.

“Johnny, look.”

My River forever.

I’m currently a Special Education Teacher in Las Vegas, Nevada. Before that, I worked construction in Southern California, eventually becoming a Box-Builder Carpenter. They build  the wood and re-bar forms for concrete structures like man holes, drains, sewers etc. I’m 68, and plan to retire next year.