A wake on the Yangtze...

shapes like dreams
rise from the river banks.
they are the clouds of our REM
cycles. our wake pulses
a desaturated flame
while naked bulbs from peasant
shacks nest in the shadow
hillsides dying like faint
stars under the hypno-hum
of our engine lullaby.

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Those are my thoughts on the Yangtze at night. We've been floating for two hours - three more hours to go before we hit our hotel tonight. We're flying down the river in a boat with no real lights to speak of. Started the morning at 6:30 am- one three and a half hour flight, one four hour bus ride, and now five hours on a suspect boat. Transit time included we'll have pulled a non-stop 18-hour marathon of a travel day...