The Rule of Four
(or is it Three?)
Eludes me on rivers.

I am forever
Undershot or overheaved,
Mostly hung high
Among
Branches & sweepers.

Blinded by my hat brim,
I create knots & tangles
Elegant enough to
Challenge
Physicists in good standing.

I want Einstein
Out here with me,
Point to the mess
Suspended
Over our heads,
Tell him, “Man, Al,
Explain that!

Grin at his bug-eyed,
Jaw scratching,
Ask him if it could be
I casted
Into a time warp
Relatively
speaking,
One human second
Equals one insect-year,
Time enough
For unseen demons
To tie my lines
Into intricate knots
Insoluble,
Even to his silent
genius.