The history of Huck's place
is so rich and tasty.
It runs from the corner of my mouth.
So listen and don't be hasty.

Years ago the river was full
with planes docked once they landed.
Now fishermen sleep here for a night
though many are empty handed.

A paddleboat once carried people here.
Fremont was as far as it would go.
It stopped on its way back to Oshkosh
to pull a log or two in a flow.

Huck's place is hidden
by the passage of time and woods
even by the snow in winter
when people stomp in with their hoods.

The sun rises over the river,
shedding light on the ancient trees.
It sets peacefully behind us
leaving a calm, cool breeze.

The door is always open
and you're always welcome
it's a corridor of reminiscing
in an almost forgotten dimension.

     --Tim LaFave Jr.
       8-22-94