How funny to think a river could have teeth.
What would river teeth look like? Whitecaps like we saw today on the river, lapping the metal side of the ferry? The shoals and guns that sank the blockade runners, sending 2,000 Confederates to their great beyond? Maybe the giant fossilized shark’s teeth implanted in that mammouth jaw at the aquarium, ready to chomp any provocator who came near? Maybe the wake from a passing motor, rocking a pleasure boat from side to side and spilling the fraternity brother’s beer?
Or river teeth could be gentle. A new baby released from his mother’s water, grinning a toothless smile of relief? A jet of water in the hot tub, prickling our grateful necks? A warm stream in the outdoor shower, washing off gritty sand?
River teeth, how funny to think a river could have teeth.