Still vivid in memory,on hot August nights in Kentucky, sleep was like a fever.90 degrees at 1AM and your pillow and the sheet beneath you damp with perspiration. Wake up and the romm is filled with darkness,heat,and moisture,and thoughts of the girl in your homeroom class who gave you a second look only to see you blush. Some moonlight seeps through at the window,the sash is raised in hope of a breeze...so you go there and peer out through the screen and into the hot night,and you hear the low,almost impercebtible bass tone from a barge whistle down on the Ohio River,5 miles away. Listen closer and you can almost hear the cold water bashed by the blunt bow,dull thump of a black tree trunk rolling away in the moon-speckled wake.

You lie back down in silence and now it comes again whoooooo, and as you turn the pillow over to find a cool spot,you close your eyes,and it seems you can even hear the thrumthrumthrum of the engine on the River, and along the surface it pulls you, and down, down into the depths of your dreams.